PE31SEOTED  FAMES 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

GIFT  OF 

Mrs.  Bartlett  Heard 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMIL*. 


And,  lifting  up  his  hands,  he  prayed,  and  said 
"  Lord  Jesus,  forgive  my  enemies  " 


THK 


PERSECUTED  FAMILY; 

A  NARRATIVE 


OF    THE 


SUFFERINGS    OF 
RELIGIOUS  AND  PIOUS  CHRISTIANS, 


THIRD     EDITION. 


BOSTON: 

J.   V.    PIERCE. 

1843. 


LOAN  STACK 

cm 


PREFACE. 


THE  lives  and  memories  of  our  Chris- 
tian ancestors,  who  suffered  so  much  for 
the  blessings  of  that  civil  and  religious 
liberty,  which  the  inhabitants  of  Britain 
now  enjoy,  ought,  one  would  think,  to  be 
peculiarly  interesting  and  sacred  to  us 
their  posterity.  Yet  so  it  happens,  that 
while  the  warrior,  who  has  drained  his  own 
country  of  its  wealth,  and  emptied  it  of 
its  bravest  people,  to  carry  devastation  and 
ruin  over  other  nations,  attracts  the  his- 
toric pen  minutely  to  record  his  deeds,  and 
the  genius  of  poetry,  in  lofty  verse,  to  sing 
his  praise, — those  glorious  sufferers,  who 
exposed  themselves  to  the  fury  of  persecu- 
tion, and,  like  the  true  soldiers  of  Jesus 
Christ,  patient,  persevering,  and  zealous, 
fought  in  behalf  of  all  that  is  dear  to  man, 
are  wholly  forgotten  by  many, — their  cha- 
racters ridiculed,  and  their  actions  misrep- 
resented by  others, — and  the  courage  with 
which  they  suffered  for  our  good,  too  little 
admired  by  all.  The  patriot,  who  takes 
the  sword  in  his  hand,  and,  at  the  head  of 


11  PREFACE. 

his  countrymen,  makes  extraordinary  ef- 
forts to  repel  the  invasion  of  an  enemy,  or 
to  shake  the  guilty  despot  from  the  strong- 
holds of  his  tyranny,  becomes,  as  he  de- 
serves, the  subject  of  warmest  eulogy;  and 
there  is  not  a  passage  in  his  history  which 
the  young  and  old  of  his  country  cannot 
relate.  But  if  the  patriot,  who  has  saved 
his  country  from  an  enemy,  or  rid  it  of 
oppression,  is  worthy  of  his  laurels,  is  he 
less  worthy,  who  abandons  the  comforts 
of  plenty,  submits  to  every  privation,  and 
offers  himself  to  every  trial,  that  he  may 
do  his  duty  to  God  while  he  lives,  and 
hand  down  religion  in  its  purity  to  after 
generations  ?  With  more  pomp,  indeed, 
are  the  steps  of  the  patriot  soldier  attend- 
ed ;  but  the  sufferings  of  the  persecuted 
Christian  bring  more  glory  to  God,  and 
more  good  to  man.  The  one  fights,  that 
he  may  secure  our  possessions  from  plun- 
der, and  our  bodies  from  slavery  :  the 
other  suffers,  that  he  may  preserve  for  us 
an  inheritance  which  fadeth  not  away,  a 
peace  which  passeth  understanding,  a  lib- 
erty which  is  spiritual,  and  a  life  which  is 
eternal.  The  one  fights  for  the  reputa- 
tion of  his  country,  and  our  rights  as  men: 
the  other  suffers  for  the  glory  of  God,  and 
our  privileges  as  immortal  beings.  Every 
sigh,  we  know,  of  our  persecuted  ances- 


PREFACE.  Ill 

tors  is  recorded  in  heaven  ;  every  tear 
which  they  shed  is  preserved  in  the  bottle 
of  God.  VVhy,  then,  should  their  memo- 
ries not  be  dear  to  us,  for  whom  they  bled 
and  for  whom  they  died  ? 

But  it  is  not  only  that  we  may  pay  them 
our  debt  of  gratitude  that  we  ought  to  ac- 
quaint ourselves  with  their  lives  ;  it  is,  that 
we  may  gather  humility  from  their  lowli- 
ness ;  faith  from  their  trust  in  God  ;  cour- 
age from  their  heaven-sustained  fortitude; 
warmth  from  the  flame  of  their  devotion, 
and  hope  from  their  glorious  success.  In 
this  age  of  peace  to  the  church,  the  love 
of  many  hath  waxed  cold.  Because  God 
requires  less  hard  service  of  us  than  he  did 
of  our  forefathers,  we  seem  to  grudge  the 
performance  of  it.  To  rekindle  the  dying 
embers  of  zeal,  and  warm  the  heart  of 
coldness,  we  know  nothing  better  than  to 
peruse  the  lives  of  those  who  suffered  so 
much,  and  with  such  willingness  of  heart, 
for  those  religious  privileges  which  we 
now  enjoy  in  peace  and  security.  Youth, 
especially,  have  need  to  make  themselves 
well  acquainted  with  their  lives  ;  for  they 
can  scarcely  fail  to  meet  with  books  in 
which  heedless  genius  has  held  them  forth 
to  laughter  ;  and  if  they  are  not  taught  to 
revere  them,  they  will  soon  be  taught  to 
hold  them  in  ridicule.  Many  of  their  lives, 


iv  PREFACE. 

however,  are  either  written  in  so  antiqua- 
ted and  ungainly  a  phraseology,  as  to  be 
noways  inviting  to  the  youthful  mind  ;  or 
are  blended  with  circumstances  so  extra- 
ordinary, as  to  discredit  and  destroy  the 
effect  of  what  is  true.  It  is  a  belief  of 
this  which  has  induced  me  to  lay  before 
the  public  the  following  narrative  ;  the 
different  parts  of  which,  although  I  do  not 
pretend  to  say  they  happened  in  the  very 
same  relation  which  I  have  given  them, 
are  all  severally  true,  and  such  as  require 
no  credence  in  those  miracles  which  have 
so  hurt  and  discredited  the  character  and 
actions  of  our  persecuted  ancestors. 


THE 

PERSECUTED   FAMILY. 


CHAPTER  1. 


*  There  stands  the  messenger  of  truth  :  there  stands 
The  legate  of  the  skies  !     His  theme  divine, 
His  office  sacred,  his  credentials  clear. 
In  doctrine  uucorrupt  ;  in  language  plain, 
And  plain  in  manner;  decent,  solemn,  chaste 
And  natural  in  gesture ;  much  impressed 
Himself,  as  conscious  of  his  awful  charge, 
And  anxious  mainly  that  the  flock  he  feeds 
May  feel  it  too  ;  affectionate  in  look, 
And  tender  in  address,  as  well  becomes 
A  messenger  of  grace  to  guilty  men.' 

COWPEB. 

THE  Reverend  Mr.  James  Briice,  the  head 
of  that  family  whose  lives  we  are  briefly  to 
record,  was  the  youngest  son  of  a  very  respect- 
able gentleman  in  the  upper  district  of  Lanark- 
shire. In  his  boyhood  he  gave  such  indications 
of  superior  talent,  and  love  of  piety  and  learning, 
as  induced  his  father  10  educate  him  for  the 
ministry.  During  the  course  of  his  studies  in 
the  university  of  Glasgow,  James  applied  him- 
self to  the  various  branches  of  education  which 


2  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

were  then  taught,  with  an  assiduity  and  success, 
which  proved  that  his  father  was  noways  wrong 
in  the  profession  he  had  chosen  for  his  son.  In 
divine  literature,  to  which  the  pious  bent  of  his 
mind,  as  well  as  his  future  views,  directed  him 
chiefly,  his  progress  was  extremely  rapid,  and  his 
acquirements  solid  and  extensive.  Of  contro- 
versial theology  he  was  by  no  means  ignorant, 
although  his  mild  and  peaceful  mind  delighted 
itself  especially  in  contemplating  the  plain  truths 
"of  the  Bible,  and  how  they  might  be  impressed, 
with  the  happiest  effects,  on  the  souls  of  men. 
The  New  Testament  he  read  continually  ;  and 
his  heart  was  warmed  with  its  love,  and  his  soul 
fashioned  to  its  precepts.  As  his  judgment  was 
sound,  so  his  feelings  were  strong.  The  history 
of  our  Saviour's  life,  and  sufferings,  and  death, 
made  a  most  extraordinary  impression  on  his 
mind  :  and  while  he  read,  and  loved,  and  ador- 
ed, his  soul  took  on  the  likeness  of  the  great 
Testator,  in  the  holy  simplicity  of  his  character, 
in  resignation  to  the  will  of  God,  in  devotion  to 
the  duties  of  religion,  and  in  love  to  mankind. 
To  those  acquirements,  without  which  a  min- 
ister is  ill  fitted  for  his  office,  he  added  a  pretty 
extensive  knowledge  of  philosophy  and  books 
of  taste  ;  and  withal  he  was  not  an  unsuccessful 
student  of  the  human  heart. 

The  romantic  scenery  amidst  which  his  child- 
hood had  been  nursed,  had  strongly  imaged  on 
his  mind  the  pure  objects  of  nature  ;  and,  follow- 
ing his  own  propensity,  as  well  as  imitating  the 
writers  of  the  Bible,  he  made  ample  use  of  them, 
in  summoning  them  forth  to  bear  witness  to 
God's  power,  and  wisdom,  and  goodness,  and 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY,  3 

in  illustrating  by  them  the  doctrines  of  the  gos- 
pel. 

With  a  mind  thus  prepared,  in  his  twenty- 
sixth  year,  Mr.  Bruce  received  a  call  from  the 

inhabitants  of  S (a  small  village  on  the 

water  of  Ayr)  and  its  neighbourhood  to  be  their 
minister.  The  call,  as  every  minister  of  sincere 
heart  would  wish,  was  cordial  and  unanimous. 
Tlie  situation  of  the  village,  although  this  was 
only  a  secondary  consideration  with  Mr.  Bruce, 
was  such  as  peculiarly  concorded  with  his  feel- 
ings and  desires.  Placed  in  a  sequestered  hol- 
low, through  which  the  Ayr  led  his  stream, 
winding  pleasantly,  covered  with  hills,  which 
rose  abruptly  on  every  side,  giving  root  to  the 
beech,  the  oak,  and  the  birch,  which  interwove 
their  varied  robes  in  Nature's  taste,  the  little 
village  seemed  to  be  the  very  home  of  pensive 
goodness  and  holy  meditation.  These  things 
urged  him  to  accept  the  call.  Above  all,  that 
he  might  be  like  his  Saviour,  continually  en- 
gaged in  his  heavenly  Father's  work,  instructing 
the  ignorant,  and  training  immortal  spirits  for 
heaven,  he  gladly  complied  with  the  invitation, 
and  was;  accordingly,  settled  among  them. 

Soon  alter  this  settlement,  he  married  Miss 
Eliza  Inglis,  the  daughter  of  a  gentleman  who 
lived  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Mr.  Bruce's 
father.  This  marriage  was  the  result  of  a  long- 
nourished  affection,  founded  on  like  tastes  and 
like  desires.  As  they  had  spent  their  childhood 
and  youth  near  one  another,  they  became  early 
acquainted,  and  early  attached  to  each  other. 
Miss  Inglis,  as  she  grew  up,  added  to  a  hand- 
some person,  and  an  engaging  countenance,  the 


4  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

prudence  and  industry  of  domestic  management, 
as  well  as  some  of  those  more  liberal  acquire- 
ments, fitted  to  render  her  a  proper  companion 
for  a  person  of  learning  and  taste.  But  what 
had  attached  Mr.  Bruce  to  her,  and  what  was 
still  the  charm  that  bound  his  heart  closer  ami 
closer  to  hers,  was  the  natural  tenderness  of 
her  soul,  and  the  meek  loveliness  of  her  piety. 
It  was  this  holy  kind-heartedness,  this  simplicity 
of  nature,  added  to  the  humility  of  the  Chris- 
tian, that  threw  enchantment  into  her  look,  and 
made  her  the  more  beloved,  the  more  she  was 
known. 

Such  was  the  young  lady,  whom,  in  her 
twenty-fourth  year,  Mr.  Bruce  made  the  part- 
ner of  his  life.  Her  good  report  had  reached 
the  village  before  her,  and  she  was  received 
with  joy.  The  meekness  and  innocence  of  her 
countenance  was  a  passport  into  the  hearts  of 
all  with  whom  she  conversed  ;  and  the  young 
as  well  as  the  old,  the  rich  as  well  as  the  poor, 
applauded  Mr.  Bruce's  prudent  choice  :  and,  no 
doubt,  conscious  as  he  was  of  this  world's  vani- 
ty, he  pictured  to  himself  a  long  perspective  of 
the  purest  and  sweetest  of  earthly  felicity. 
And,  indeed,  if  youth  and  health,  the  comforts 
of  plenty,  wedded  affection,  mutual  and  fondly 
cherished,  founded  on  the  best  of  motives,  and 
strengthened  and  tempered  by  the  influences  of 
religion,  together  with  the  esteem  and  love  of 
neighbours,  and  peace  with  ourself  and  our 
Maker,  could  warrant  any  man  to  hope  for 
much  and  long-lasting  happiness  under  the  sun, 
surely  Mr.  Bruce  might  well  entertain  thig 
hope. 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  5 

In  the  pulpit,  Mr.  Bruce  was  truly  the  mes- 
senger of  God.  He  knew  the  dignity  of  his 
office,  and  its  awful  responsibility  ;  and  regard- 
less of  the  face  of  man,  with  an  earnestness 
which  was  of  the  heart,  and  with  a  voice,  and 
look,  and  gesture,  which  suited  themselves  at 
all  times  to  his  subject,  he  made  known  the  mo- 
mentous commandments  with  which  his  Master 
had  entrusted  him,  and  enforced  the  practice  of 
them.  Although  he  was  by  no  means  remiss 
in  setting  before  his  flock  the  terrors  of  God's 
wrath,  which  shall  awfully  fall  on  the  finally 
impenitent,  his  natural  mildness  of  disposition 
rather  led  him  to  enlarge  on  the  eternal  love  of 
God,  manifested  in  the  scheme  of  redemption  ; 
and  to  allure  his  people  from  the  evil  of  their 
ways,  by  painting  the  beauties  of  holiness,  bring- 
ing home  to  their  minds  the  joy  of  peace  with 
God,  and  pointing  their  eye  away  to  the  re- 
wards of  immortality,  tie  rather  drew  his 
flock  after  him,  as  with  the  suasive  of  irresisti- 
ble melody,  than  drove  them  into  the  strait 
path,  by  the  frownings  of  offended  justice,  and 
the  threatenings  of  coming  vengeance. 

The  abstract  doctrines  of  Christianity  he  did 
not  leave  untaught;  but  he  urged  incessantly 
the  practice  of  heart-felt  godliness,  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ,  love  to  God,  and  charity  to  man.  He 
never  thought  of  wasting  time,  and  defrauding 
his  hearers,  by  heaping  together  numberless 
meanings  for  one  passage  of  scripture,  or  in 
proving  what  no  one  ever  doubted,  or  in  en- 
deavouring to  bring  to  the  level  of  human  capa- 
city those  truths  of  revelation  which  Infinity 
alone  can  fully  understand,  and  which  we  are 


6  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY 

rather  commanded  to  believe  than  comprehend. 
He  did  not  so  much  give  reason  after  reason,  to 
prove  why  God  had  a  right:  to  enjoin  this  or 
that  duty,  because  he  knew  that  few  doubted 
this  right,  as  he  set  himself  to  persuade  his  flock 
to  the  doing  of  it.  What  is  practical  in  Chris- 
tianity, he  exhorted  his  people  to  practise  ;  what 
is  subject  of  credence  merely,  he  believed,  and 
taught,  others  the  reasonableness  of  believing 
it,  and  its  influence  on  the  heart  and  life  ;  and 
instead  of  bewildering  himself,  and  producing 
doubt  and  darkness  in  the  minds  of  his  auditors, 
by  entering  boldly,  like  many  divines,  on  the 
explanation  of  what  is  in  itself  incomprehensi- 
ble, he  stood  still,  and  believed,  and  adored,  and 
took  from  it  a  lesson  of  humilky. 

But  what,  in  his  public  ministrations,  drew 
every  ear  into  attention,  and,  through  the  bles- 
sing'of  God,  produced  such  effects  on  the  heart, 
was  not  more  the  soundness  of  his  doctrines, 
than  the  earnestness  of  his  persuasions.  His 
was  not  the  cold-hearted  address  of  formality, 
which  suits  so  ill  a  servant  of  the  ever-earnest 
Jesus.  He  seemed  to  know  the  worth  of  an 
immortal  soul,  and  the  value  of  eternal  happi- 
ness ;  and  he  pleaded  for  God  and  truth,  for 
man's  welfare  here  and  hereafter,  as  one  would 
plead  for  the  life  of  an  only  son.  He  taught, 
he  warned,  he  rebuked,  he  comforted,  with  his 
whole  heart ;  and  was  not  ashamed,  that,  like 
his  great  Master,  the  tears  of  love  and  holy 
sorrow  should  be  sometimes  seen  weeping  down 
his  cheek. 

His  daily  manners  suited  his  character  in  the 
pulpit.  He  was  grave,  decorous,  and  affable ; 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  7 

dignified  without  loftiness,  ant]  familiar  without 
meanness.  He  disgusted  not  the  old  by  levity, 
nor  terrified  the  young  by  austerity.  Regarding 
himself  as  the  spiritual  father  of  his  flock,  and 
naturally  kind,  he  made  the  interest  of  all  his 
own.  The  child,  as  well  as  the  man  of  gray 
hairs,  found  in  him  a  cheerful  friend  and  a  pleas- 
ant instructer.  Mr.  Bruce  spent  much  of  his 
time  in  visiting  from  house  to  house;  a  duty 
enj  )ined  by  the  Bible,  which  the  ministers  of 
the  seventeenth  century  seem  to  have  recog- 
nised, or  at  least  practised,  better  than  those  of 
the  nineteenth.  Although  his  learning  and  cul- 
tivated manners  made  him  noways  disagreeable 
to  the  higher  circles,  and  his  duty  sometimes 
called  him  to  mingle  with  them,  yet  you  would 
not  always  have  seen  him  in  the  train  of  the 
wealthy,  or  seated  by  the  table  of  luxury.  He 
went  about  comforting  the  brokenhearted,  in- 
fusing the  halm  of  heavenly  comfort  into  the 
wounded  soul,  and  administering  here  and  there, 
out  of  his  little  income,  to  the  wants  of  the 
needy.  He  entered  into  the  hut  of  widowed 
loneliness,  and  took  his  station  by  the  bed  of 
poverty  in  distress.  The  dying  saint  saw  him 
enter  his  chamber,  and  caught  brighter  views 
of  the  land  beyond  the  grave  from  his  conver- 
sation, and  felt  his  faith  increase  in  the  earnest- 
ness of  his  prayers.  Nor  did  he  pass  by  the 
house  where  the  wicked  man  lay  on  the  bed  of 
death  :  but  drew  near  his  couch  and  labored, 
with  admonition,  with  prayer,  with  entreaty, 
to  turn  the  sinner's  eye  to  the  cross  of  Christ, 
and  save  his  soul  from  death.  His  character 
was,  indeed,  a  model  which  his  parishioners 


"8  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

might  have  imitated  with  as  much  safety  as 
obeyed  the  doctrines  which  he  taught.  He 
never  thought  of  preaching  humility,  and  yet 
walking  in  the  stately  steps  of  pride  ;  of  recom- 
mending purity  of  heart,  and  yet  indulging  in 
the  pleasures  of  sense  ;  and  of  eulogizing  and 
enforcing  charity,  and  yet  shutting  his  own  ear 
to  the  cry  of  want. 

While  Mr.  Bruce  was  thus  engaged,  feeding 
his  flock,  and  endearing  himself  to  them  by  his 
constant  vigilance  for  their  welfare,  he  enjoyed 
the  utmost  domestic  peace  and  happiness.  Mrs. 
Bruce's  prudent  management  saved  him  from 
all  trouble  with  household  affairs.  His  stipend 
was  small ;  but  she  regulated  her  expenses  ac- 
cordingly. His  manse,  like  many  of  the  clergy- 
men's houses  in  those  days,  was,  when  he 
came  to  it,  a  very  inconvenient  and  dull-looking 
building  ;  and  had  been  suffered,  besides,  to  fall 
into  sad  disrepair  by  the  former  incumbent, 
who  had  lived  a  single  life,  and  although  pecu- 
liarly careful  of  his  charge,  had  minded  little 
about  the  comforts  of  his  own  house.  The 
rain  found  its  way  plentifully  through  the  rag- 
ged roof :  the  windows  had,  in  many  instances, 
exchanged  their  glass  panes  for  boards,  or  some 
thing  still  less  befitting,  and  were  nearly  dark- 
ened by  the  honeysuckle  and  rose-trees  which 
had  been  left  to  spread  at  will.  Up  the  walls, 
too,  clambered  the  dock  and  the  nettle  ;  and  the 
little  plot,  which  gently  sloped  from  the  door  to 
the  river,  was  so  overgrown  with  brushwood 
and  weeds  of  every  description,  that  the  passage 
to  the  stream,  in  that  direction,  was  almost 
shut  up.  The  inside  of  the  house  was  in  no 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  9 

better  a  state.  The  cornice  and  plaster,  in 
many  places,  had  fallen  from  the  walls  :  the 
floor  was  so  decayed,  as  to  endanger  the  fall  of 
those  who  walked  on  it ;  and  in  the  closets  and 
bedrooms  spiders  and  other  vermin  had  long 
taken  up  their  abode. 

As  Mr.  Bruce  was  generally  beloved,  the 
hciitors,  of  their  own  accord,  fell  about  repair- 
ing his  house  ;  and,  under  Mrs.  Bruce's  care, 
everything  about  the  manse  soon  assumed  a 
livelier  and  more  handsome  appearance.  The 
vermin  were  driven  from  their  settlements,  the 
windows  filled  with  glass,  and  everything  with- 
in assorted  with  taste  and  elegance.  The  im- 
provement was  not  less  conspicuous  without. 
The  little  plot  before  the  house  was  cleaned 
of  its  brambles  and  weeds,  and  assumed  the 
smoothness  of  a  bowling-green  :  the  dock  and 
nettle  were  uprooted  ;  and  the  rose  and  honey- 
suckle, although  preserved  with  care,  were  now 
taught  to  bend  their  branches  in  subordination 
to  taste  and  usefulness  :  the  broad  stone,  which 
lay  immediately  before  the  front  door,  and 
which  had  been  hid  under  a  thick  coat  of  dirt, 
was  cleaned  and  washed  ;  and  indeed,  all  with- 
out looked  so  cheerful,  orderly,  and  comfort- 
able, as  well  bespoke  the  peace,  and  concord, 
and  happiness  that  dwelt  within.  So  inviting 
the  honest  dwelling  looked,  that  the  traveller 
would  not  have  passed  it,  without  wishing  to 
see  its  inhabitants ;  and  the  weary  wanderer 
would  have  approached  the  door,  in  confidence 
of  a  kind  welcome  to  nourishment  and  rej>ose. 

Mr.  Bruce,  as  we  have  observed,  as  he  had 
no  need,  gave  himself  no  trouble  about  house- 


10  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

hold  affairs.  His  hours  of  leisure,  which  were, 
indeed,  but  few,  were  therefore  spent  in  some 
innocent  amusement.  At  these  times,  Mrs. 
Bruce  was  always  ready  to  attend  him.  Her 
conversation,  cheerful  and  varied,  never  failed 
to  refresh  his  mind  when  it  had  been  exhausted 
by  study,  and  to  restore  it  to  tranquillity  when 
it  had  been  disturbed  by  any  unpleasing  occur- 
rence. Mr.  Bruce  was  very  fond  of  the  simple 
songs  of  his  country  ;  and  although  his  wile's 
voice  was  not  surprisingly  fine,  or  her  manage- 
ment of  it  very  tasteful,  her  singing  would  have 
pleased  any  one  who  admired  simplicity  and 
feeling.  But  her  husband  was  delighted  :  for  he 
gazed  on  her  with  eyes  of  the  tenderest  affec- 
tion while  she  sung  to  him  the  sweet  melodies 
of  Scotland.  Sometimes  they  read  together  in 
some  useful  and  entertaining  book, — sometimes 
they  walked  by  the  banks  of  the  Ayr,  enjoy- 
ing the  loveliness  of  nature,  and  giving  audience 
to  the  song  of  the  thrush  and  the  blackbird, 
that  from  the  birch  or  hawthorn  joined  their 
minstrelsy  to  the  mellow  pipe  of  the  wind  and 
the  purling  voice  of  the  stream. 

To  all  these  enjoyments  were  added,  first  a 
son,  and  afterwards  a  daughter;  the  one,  An- 
drew, as  every  body  said,  the  very  image  of 
his  father  ;  the  other,  Mary,  no  less  the  like- 
ness of  her  mother.  Eager  to  instruct  all,  Mr. 
Bruce  was  doubly  so  with  regard  to  his  own 
children.  He  observed  with  a  father's  and 
Christian's  eye  the  opening  of  their  infant  fac- 
ulties, and,  at  an  early  hour,  shed  upon  them 
the  light  of  truth  ;  and  spared  no  pains  to  warm 
their  young  and  tender  hearts  with  love  to 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  11 

God  and  religion.  He  taught  them  betimes  the 
way  to  heaven,  setting  their  faces  thitherward  : 
and  it  pleased  God  to  bless  his  teaching,  and 
render  it  effectual.  He  taught  them  love  to  one 
another,  and  to  their  fellow  creatures.  And  he 
turned  the  attention  of  their  minds  to  those 
pleasing  and  sublime  ideas  which  the  objects  of 
nature  are  fitted  to  produce. 

Andrew,  who  seemed  to  resemble  his  father 
in  his  mental  as  well  as  corporal  parts,  was 
early  designed  for  the  ministry.  His  education 
was,  therefore,  taken  chiefly  under  the  father's 
eye  ;  while  Mary  learned  the  more  gentle  and 
delicate  accomplishments,  befitting  her  charac- 
ter, from  her  mother :  and  never  had  parents, 
more  comfort  in  instructing  and  watching  over 
their  offspring.  They  loved  their  parents,  and 
did  everything  to  please  them  :  they  loved  each 
other,  feared  God,  and  delighted  in  obeying  his 
will.  They  increased  daily  in  knowledge  and 
stature,  growing  up  like  well-watered  plants 
which  the  Lord  hath  blessed.  The  rose  of 
health  bloomed  on  their  cheeks,  and  the  sacred 
spirit  of  religion  looked  already  from  their  eyes. 

Religion  !  thou  art  happiness.  Thou  infus- 
est  the  calm  of  heaven  into  the  bosom  of  man, 
and  pours  into  his  heart  the  sweetness  of  celes- 
tial enjoyment.  Thou  hast,  indeed,  special 
rewards  to  give  in  the  land  of  glory.  There 
thou  openest  the  arms  of  everlasting  felicity  to 
receive  all  thy  followers  at  last  into  the  fulness 
of  its  embrace  :  there  thou  securest  them  a 
place  by  the  font  of  original  life.  But  thou 
art  even  here  infinitely  superior  to  every  other 
thing  in  the  purity  and  sweetness  of  thyt  enjoy- 


12  THE  PERSECb'-TED  FAMILY 

ments.  Thou  art  thyself  fair  as  the  light  of 
God  ;  and  thou  stampest  on  all  the  pleasures 
of  thy  sons  the  imagery  of  heaven,  and  minglest 
them  with  the  relishes  of  immortality.  Wo 
unto  him  that  seeketh  his  happiness  apart  from 
thee  !  He  shall  be  miserably  disappointed. 


CHAPTER  II. 

'  Unpractised  he  to  fawn,  or  seek  for  power, 
By  doctrines  fashioned  to  the  varying  hour, 
Far  other  aims  his  heart  had  learned  to  prize, 
More  skilled  to  raise  the  wretched,  than  to  rise 
To  them  his  heart,  his  love,  his  griefs,  were  given, 
But  all  his  serious  thoughts  had  vent  in  heaven. 
As  some  tall  cliff,  that  lifts  its  awful  form, 
Swells  from  the  vale,  and  midway  leaves  the  storm, 
Though  round  its  head  the  rolling  clouds  are  spread, 
Liernal  sunshine  settles  on  its  head.' 

FOURTEEN  years  had  passed  over  this  happy 
family,  when  the  Restoration  threatened  the 
overthrow  of  the  Scottish  church.  Charles, 
advised  by  his  English  and  Irish  ministers, 
Clarendon  and  Ormond,  and  latterly  by  Lauder- 
dale,  secretary  ibr  Scotland,  introduced  the 
episcopal  form  of  worship  into  Scotland.  Pa- 
tronage was  renewed  ;  and  the  clergy  were 
required  to  procure  a  presentation  from  their 
patrons,  and  collation  from  their  bishops, — to 
acknowledge  their  authority,  and  the  spiritual 
supremacy  of  xthe  king.  The  clergy  in  the 
northern  districts  complied  without  hesitation  ; 
but  their  more  pious  and  zealous  brethren  in 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  13 

the  west,  however  willing  they  might  be  to  sub- 
mit to  and  support  the  civif  authority  of  the 
king,  rejected  his  spiritual  supremacy,  refused 
submission  to  the  episcopalian  judicatories,  and 
preferred  rather  to  sutler  the  extremity  of  per- 
secution, than  to  sacrifice  what  they  deemed  the 
truth  and  their  duty  to  God.  The  people  were 
no  less  averse  from  this  encroachment  on  their 
religious  privileges,  and  resolved  to  imitate  their 
pastors,  whose  engaging  familiarity,  and  sanctity 
of  manners,  had  gained  them  the  esteem  and 
love  of  their  flocks. 

But  if  they  had  determined  to  suffer  rather 
than  renounce  the  covenant  and  their  beloved 
presbytery,  the  bishops,  who  had  now  got  all 
power  in  Scotland  into  their  hands,  determined 
no  less  the  destruction  of  both.  Burnet,  arch- 
bishop of  Glasgow,  and  the  apostate  Sharpe, 
primate  of  St.  Andrews,  with  a  cruelty  little 
becoming  mitred  heads,  prepared  to  carry  this 
into  effect.  Ambulatory  courts  were  establish- 
ed on  the  principles  of  the  Inquisition,  in  which 
the  bishops  were  the  judges  of  those  whom  they 
wished  to  destroy.  No  regard  was  had  to  re- 
monstrance, or  entreaty,  or  even  to  evidence. 
To  these  courts  the  military  were  subordinate, 
and  instructed  to  carry  their  resolutions,  which 
were  often  formed  in  the  midst  of  riot  and 
drunkenness,  into  execution.  By  this  proce- 
dure, three  hundred  and  fifty  clergymen  were 
ejected  from  their  livings  in  the  severity  of  win- 
ter, and  driven,  with  their  families,  to  seek 
shelter  among  the  peasants.  The  most  igno- 
rant and  vicious  of  their  northern  brethren, 
who  scrupled  at  no  compliance,  were  thrust, 


14  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

by  the  strong  hand  of  power,  into  their  places. 
The  ignorance  and  shameful  lives  of  these  apos- 
tates from  the  covenant,  who  were  now  meta- 
morphosed into  curates,  disgusted  the  people 
on  whom  they  had  been  forced.  Their  doc- 
trines had  none  of  that  heavenly  relish  which 
suited  the  taste  of  those  who  had  been  formerly 
'.aught  by  the  best  and  most  affectionate  of 
men.  Their  churches  were  deserted  ;  and  the 
people  went  into  the  mountains  in  search  of  that 
water  of  life  which  no  longer  flowed  from  the 
pulpits. 

But  this  was  only  the  beginning  of  their  trials. 
Their  pastors  were  soon  forbidden  to  preach 
even  in  the  fields,  or  to  approach  within  twenty 
miles  of  their  former  charges  ;  and  all  the  peo- 
ple, as  well  as  their  pastors,  who  were  not  pre- 
pared to  abjure  their  dearest  rights,  and  to 
submit  to  the  most  galling  and  iniquitous  civil 
and  religious  despotism,  were  denounced  as 
traitors,  and  doomed  to  capital  punishment. 
To  admit  any  one  who  refused  compliance  into 
shelter,  to  favor  his  escape,  or  not  to  assist  in 
apprehending  him,  subjected  the  person  S3  con- 
victed to  the  same  punishment.  To  this,  mili- 
tary persecution  succeeded.  They  were  both 
the  judges  and  the  executioners.  The  very 
forms  of  justice  were  now  wholly  abandoned. 
Gentlemen,  and  peasants,  and  ministers,  were 
driven  out  to  wander  among  t  le  morasses  and 
nmmtains  of  the  country  ; — were  crowded  into 
ga  )ls, — sent  int)  exile  and  slavery, — and  multi- 
tudes were  daily  writhing  in  the  torture,  or 
perishing  on  the  gibbet.  Rapes,  robberies,  and 
every  species  of  outrage,  were  committed  by  the 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY  15 

soldiers  with  impunity.  The  west  of  Scotland 
was  red  with  the  blood  of  its  own  inhabitants, 
shed  by  their  own  countrymen.  The  spirits 
of  darkness  seemed  to  have  entered  into  the 
bosoms  of  the  persecutors,  and  to  actuate  all 
their  doings.  They  appeared  to  delight  in 
cruelty,  and  in  shedding  theT»lood  of  the  inno- 
cent. But  the  glorious  sufferers,  reiving  on 
the  goodness  of"  their  cause,  and  hoping  in  the 
promises  of  God,  opposed  sanctity  of  life  to 
licentiousness  and  rht ;  the  spiritual  weajwws 
of  truth,  to  the  swords  of  their  enemies  ;  patient 
endurance,  to  fatigue,  and  want,  and  toiture; 
and  calm  resignation,  to  the  most  ignominious 
deaths.  And,  truly,  they  suffered  not  or  bled 
in  vain.  God,  at  last,  gave  them  the  victory 
over  all  their  enemies  ;  and,  through  them,  se- 
cured to  us  the  religious  privileges  we  this  day 
enjoy.  From  this  short  sketch  of  the  times, 
which  we  thought  necessary  to  explain  what 
shall  afterwards  occur,  we  return  to  that  family 
which  we  left  so  happy. 

Among  those  clergymen  who  bravely  refused 
compliance  with  the  iniquitous  orders  of  gov- 
ernment was  Mr.  Bruce.  Although  naturally 
mild,  an  uncommon  lover  of  good  order,  and 
ready,  at  all  times,  to  impress  on  his  Hock  the 
duty  of  submission  to  all  the  lawful  commands 
of  the  civil  authorities,  lie  could  not  think  lor 
a  moment  of  violating  his  conscience,  and  uf 
teaching  his  people  to  violate  theirs,  by  forsak- 
ing what  he  deemed  his  duty  to  his  heavenly 
Master.  But  there  was  only  one  alternative. 
— Either  he  must  comply  with  the  sinful  and 
tyrannical  requirements  of  the  bishops,  in  whose 
2 


16  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

hands  the  civil  power  was,  or  relinquish  his 
pastoral  charge,  and  quit  his  house  and  his 
living.  Mr.  Bruce  was  not  a  man  to  hesitate 
whether  to  seek  the  praise  of  men  or  the  praise 
of  God.  On  the  last  Sabbath  on  which  it  was 
permitted  him  to  enter  his  pulpit,  he  thus  took 
farewell  of  his  dear  flock. — 

( You  know,  my  dear  friends,3  said  he,  '  what 
orders  I  have  received  from  the  bishops,  who 
possess  for  the  time  the  civil  as  well  as  eccle- 
siastical authority.  I  am  required  to  acknow- 
ledge the  king  as  supreme  head  of  the  church  ; 
to  submit  to  the  diocesan  jurisdiction  of  the 
bishops  ;  to  be  re-ordained  and  converted  into  a 
curate,  and  to  introduce  the  episcopal  mode  of 
worship  into  this  church.  In  a  word,  I  am  to  re- 
nounce presbytery:  preach,  not  as  the  Bible  and 
my  own  conscience  direct  me,  but  according  to 
the  wishes  of  a  drunken  and  licentious  court, 
and  the  dictates  of  a  self-interested  and  domi- 
neering priesthood  :  And  all  this  I  am  enjoined 
to  do,  or  leave  you,  my  house,  and  my  living. 

6  You  cannot  *  but  know  that  I  have  deter- 
mined on  this  last.  I  have  not  so  learned  my 
duty,  as  not  to  be  able  to  sacrifice  a  little  of  this 
world's  comfort  for  conscience  sake ;  and  I 
would  rather  that  my  tongue  should  be  forever 
dumb,  than  that  it  should  utter  one  word  from 
this  sacred  place,  merely  to  please  men  of  power, 
and  secure  my  own  worldly  gratification.  I  can 
part  with  the  comforts  of  a  home  :  but  how  can 
I  part  with  you,  my  dear  friends  :  We  have 
lived  together  in  the  bonds  of  love.  Every  one 
of  you  is  endeared  to  me  by  some  particular 
kindness  given  or  received.  I  have  watched 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  17 

over  the  childhood  of  many  of  you,  and  now 
see  you  advancing  in  the  knowledge  of  religion 
as  ye  grow  up  to  manhood.  Others  of  you  1 
have  seen  growing  gray  with  years  ;  and  I  have 
endeavoured  to  smooth  your  way,  and  stay 
vour  steps  down  the  slope  of  time. "  All  of  you 
1  have  cared  for  :  all  of  you  1  have  set  my 
heart  upon  :  all  of  you  have  been  to  me  as  fa- 
thers or  sons,  as  brothers  or  sisters.  How  car/ 
I  part  with  you,  my  beloved  Hock  ?  How  can 
I  leave  you,  like  sheep  without  a  shepherd, 
and  like  sheep  in  the  midst  of  ravening  wolves  ? 
O  God  !'  he  exclaimed,  and  the  people  rose  up 
as  if  by  enchantment,  '  O  God  !  who  seest  my 
heart,  thou  knowest  what  love  I  bear  to  this 
people  :  thou  knowest  how  dear  their  souls  are 
to  me.  O  hear  my  cry  !  keep  them  from  the 
evil  of  the  world,  from  the  snares  which  are 
laid  for  their  feet ;  and  if  they  should  never  hear 
the  word  of  life  from  my  lips  again  ;  if  thou  hast, 
in  thy  wise  providence,  wandering  and  weeping 
prepared  for  them,  O  Father  !  so  watch  over 
their  souls,  that  I  may  meet  them  all  at  last  by 
the  right  hand  of  their  Saviour  and  my  Saviour, 
of  their  God  and  my  God.  Father  in  heaven, 
into  thy  hands  we  commit  our  immortal  spir- 
its!5 

When  he  had  thus  spoken,  he  sat  down  in 
the  pulpit,  and  wept  bitterly.  Nor  did  he  weep 
alone.  The  man  of  gray  hairs  wept,  and  the 
child  sobbed  by  his  side.  And  when  they 
looked  to  the  holy  man,  whose  sorrow  was  all 
for  them, — and  when  they  turned  their  eyes  to 
the  seat,  where  his  wife  sat,  bathed  in  tears, 
and  her  children,  Andrew  and  Mary,  weeping 


18  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY 

aloud,  and  looking  up  to  their  father, — and 
when  they  thought,  that  they  were  to  be  driven 
out  from  their  happy  home,  to  wander  in  pov- 
erty,— again  their  tears  flowed,  and  again  they 
looked  and  wept. 

Mr.  Bruce  was  the  first  to  recover  some  de- 
gree of  composure.  He  begged  his  sorrowing 
audience  not  to  give  themselves  up  to  vain 
lamentations,  but  rather  to  be  thankful  for  the 
comfortable  days  they  had-  spent  together  ;  to 
be  putting  their  hope  and  their  confidence  in 
God  ;  and  to  be  preparing  for  the  sufferings  to 
which  it  was  likely  they  would  soon  be  exposed. 
In  surveying  the  aspect  of  the  times,  he  said,  he 
had  no  doubt  that  the  entire  destruction  of  the 
presbyterian  church  was  meditated  ;  and  a  se- 
vere persecution,  he  had  every  reason  to  believe, 
was  about  to  commence,  in  which  their  faith 
and  their  patience  would  be  put  to  a  severe 
trial.  He  advised  them  to  be  as  inoffensive  as 
possible  to  the  civil  powers,  and  to  give  prompt 
and  cordial  obedience  to  all  their  lawful  de- 
mands ;  but  exhorted  them  rather  to  suffer, 
than  renounce  the  covenant,  or  make  the  small- 
est compliance  in  violation  of  their  own  con- 
sciences,— assuring  them  at  the  same  time,  if 
they  suffered  now,  they  would  rejoice  hereafter. 
God  would  remember  every  sigh,  and  treasure 
up  all  their  tears  in  his  bottle.  Their  patient 
endurance  would  tire  out  the  arm  of  persecu- 
tion. They  would  thus  leave  the  blessings  of 
religious  liberty  to  their  posterity  ;  and  if  they 
themselves  suffered  to  the  death,  they  would  be 
rewarded  in  heaven  with  a  crown  of  life. 

After  this  valedictory  admonition  and  en- 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY  J9 

couragement,  having  recommended  his  flock 
ag'iin  to  the  care  of  Heaven,  he  descended  from 
the  pulpit,  amidst  the  weepings  of  his  congre- 
gation ;  and  when  he  had,  with  difficulty,  with- 
drawn himself  from  them,  he  retired,  with  his 
wife  and  children,  to  his  house. 

In  the  pulpit,  Mr.  Bruce  had  carefully  avoid- 
ed making  any  allusion  to  his  own  family.  His 
feelings  of  sorrow,  on  their  account,  were  of 
that  deep  and  sacred  kind,  which  we  rather  wish 
t  >  shut  up  in  the  sanctuary  of  our  own  hosoms, 
than  trust  to  the  sympathy  of  the  most  confiding 
friendship.  How  could  he  see  her,  who  had 
been  long  the  companion  of  his  life,  endeared  to 
him  by  every  tie  that  can  draw  kindred  souls 
into  the  closest  fellowship,  her  who  had  been 
ever  used  to  the  comforts  of  plenty,  driven  from 
a  home  which  she  had  made  so  comfortable, 
exposed  to  fatigue,  to  houseless  wandering,  and 
perhaps  to  want  itself? — How  could  he  see  his 
dear  children,  whom  she  had  nursed  so  tenderly, 
and  in  whom  resided  his  dearest  earthly  hoj)es, 
turned  out,  unable  as  they  were  to  provide  for 
themselves,  on  the  sympathies  of  the  world  ? 
He  knew,  indeed,  that  as  long  as  he  and  his 
family  were  permitted  to  wander  among  his 
flock,  they  would  be  in  no  danger  of  want ;  but  it 
was  easy  to  read,  from  the  face  of  the  times,  that 
even  this  would  soon  be  denied  them  :  and  he 
already  saw  his  family,  in  the  forward  eye  of 
imagination,  suffering  under  all  the  evils  of 
insult  and  beggary. 

On  this  subject  he  had  not  dared  hitherto  to 
enter,  even  to  Mrs.  Bruce.  She  observed  it, 


20  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

and  was  well  aware  of  the  cause  ;  and,  anxious 
to  relieve  his  feelings,  on  the  Sabbath  evening, 
while  they  sat  in  their  snug  parlor,  ga/ing  in 
silent  dejection  on  their  children,  she  thus  began 
the  conversation. — 

'  Do  not  be  so  sorrowful  on  our  account, 
dear  James,'  she  said.  ( I  have  shared  in  all 
your  enjoyments,  and  I  can  suffer  with  you  too; 
and  so  can  these  children.  We  may  have 
many  hardships  to  encounter  :  but  we  will  have 
the  approbation  of  our  own  minds  :  we  will 
have  the  protection  of  that  God  in  whom  we 
have  always  trusted  ;  and  we  know  that  he  will 
not  suffer  anything  effectually  to  hurt  us.  We 
will  have  your  love,  my  dear  James ;  and  we 
shall  still  be  happy  in  sharing  your  trials,  and 
soothing  your  cares.3 

'Dearest  Eliza,5  said  Mr.  Bruce,  eyou  are 
indeed  right.  God  will  be  our  protector  :  why 
should  we  hesitate  to  cast  ourselves  upon  his 
care  ?  1  could  have  easily  made  up  my  mind 
to  this  trial,  but  for  you  and  these  children. 
But  why  should  I  cast  one  lingering  look  on 
these  comforts,  which  my  Master  hids  me  leave? 
He  can  protect  you  as  well  as  me.  Under  his 
guidance  we  are  safe.  To-morrow  we  quit 
this  house,  which  is  to  be  occupied  by  another  ; 
and  let  us  quit  it  without  a  murmur.  What  is 
the  threatening  or  indulgence  of  this  world  to 
us  ?  What  are  its  joys  or  its  pains  ?  To  do 
our  duty  to  God, — our  Creator  and  Redeemer, 
—to  love,  to  honor,  and  to  obey  him, — this  is 
sufficient  for  us.  He  will  see  that  no  evil  befall 
us.' 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  21 

Here  Mr.  Bruce  paused  for  a  little,  and  then 
proceeded  thus  : — 

1  But  let  us  act  with  prudence,  my  dear 
Eliza.  Might  it  not  be  proper  for  you  and  the 
children  to  go  and  live  with  your  friends  at 
Lanark  for  the  present.  You  will  then  have  a 
settled  home  ;  and  I  am  sure  you  will  he  kindly 
treated.  For  my  own  part,  I  am  resolved  to 
continue  among  my  flock,  and  to  take  every  op- 
portunity of  serving  their  spiritual  interests.' 

*  No,  "no,5  said  Mrs.  Bruce;  'we  will  not 
leave  you.  I  am  determined  to  suffer  with 
you.  Nothing  but  death  shall  part  me  from 
you.J 

'  But  these  children,'  said  Mr.  Bruce;  '  think 
of  them,  dear  Eli/a.' 

'  They  are  stout  and  healthy,'  replied  Mrs. 
Bruce  ;  *  and  you  shall  see  how  cheerfully  they 
will  submit  to  everything,  rather  than  part  with 
YOU.  Will  you  leave  your  father,  Andrew  ? 
Will  you,  Mary  ? ' 

c  No,  no,'  they  both  exclaimed ;  and,  weep- 
ing, clasping  their  hands  about  their  father's 
neck,  alarmed  to  hear  their  mother  speak  of  their 
leaving  him. 

Andrew  was  at  this  time  in  his  thirteenth 
year,  a  fine  smart-looking  boy  ;  stout  at  his  age, 
his  hair  black  and  bushy,  and  his  eye  full,  dark, 
and  penetrating.  Of  his  talents  we  have  already 
spoken.  They  were  of  a  high  order  ;  and,  un- 
der his  father's  assiduous  culture,  he  had  already 
made  considerable  progress  in  learning.  Indeed 
his  acquirements  of  every  kind  were  beyond  his 
years.  His  father  was  his  only  companion,  as 


22  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

well  as  instructer ;  and  his  attention  had  thus 
been  turned,  at  all  times,  to  something  useful. 
His  susceptible  mind  had  rapidly  imbibed  his 
father's  ideas,  and,  in  fact,  had  already  stored 
up  most  of  his  knowledge.  In  piety,  irTthe  love 
of  learning,  in  the  amiableness  of  his  disposition, 
Andrew  resembled  his  father  ;  but  his  mind 
gave  indications  of  more  boldness  and  originali- 
ty. Indeed,  there  already  appeared  in  him  a 
decision  of  character,  a  steady  adherence  to  his 
resolutions,  and  a  firm  perseverance  in  the  pur- 
suit of  whatever  caught  his  attention,  which,  in 
union  with  his  religious  spirit,  promised  a  life 
of  the  highest  usefulness. 

Mary,  who  was  now  in  her  eleventh  year, 
with  cheeks  fair  and  rosy,  a  fine  soft  blue  eye, 
and  a  profusion  of  golden  ringlets  flowing  on 
her  shoulders,  had  all  the  light-hearted  gaiety, 
and  innocent  loveliness,  which  girls,  properly 
educated,  generally  have  at  that  age.  Impres- 
sed thus  early  with  the  sacred  ness  of  religion, 
ii's  purity  seemed  to  beam  from  her  eye.  Her 
iOve  to  her  relations  was  in  proportion  to  her 
tenderness  of  heart.  To  please  her  mother,  her 
father,  and  her  brother,  to  hear  them  say  she 
had  done  well,  made  her  happy.  A  fairer  and 
a  sweeter  plant  hath  nature  nowhere  :  and,  in 
the  retirement  ol'the  secluded  manse,  she  looked 
like  one  of  those  flowers  which  the  traveller 
may  sometimes  meet  in  the  desert ;  so  lovely, 
that  he  cannot  feel  in  his  heart  to  pull  it,  and 
yet  knows  not  how  to  leave  it  behind. 

Mr.  Bruce,  perceiving  it  was  needless  to  say 
anything  more  about  his  family  leaving  him, 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  23 

turned  their  attention,  for  a  considerable  time, 
to  those  truths  of  the  Christian  religion  which 
are  best  fitted  to  prepare  us  for  bearing  changes 
and  trials  with  fortitude  and  resignation.  And 
then  the  family,  after  joining,  as  usual,  in  the 
worship  of  God,  withdrew  to  repose. 


CHAPTER  III. 

« He  stablishes  the  strong,  restores  the  weak, 
Reclaims  the  wanderer,  binds  the  broken  heart, 
And,  armed  himself  in  panoply  complete 
Of  heavenly  temper,  furnishes  with  arms 
Bright  as  his  own,  and  trains,  by  every  rule 
Of  holy  discipline,  to  glorious  war, 
The  sacramental  host  of  God's  elect !' 

COWPIR. 

EARLY  on  the  Monday  morning  Mr.  Bruce 
and  his  family  arose  ;  and  having  committed 
their  way  to  God,  prepared  to  leave  their  house. 
The  furniture  was  dispersed  among  the  neigh- 
bours, except  a  few  articles  necessary  for  their 
comfort,  which  were  sent  to  Braeside,  a  farm- 
house, situated  in  a  romantic  glen,  about  four 
miles  from  the  village,  whither  Mr.  Bruce  had 
chosen  to  retire.  Everything  was  soon  put  in 
order  for  their  departure.  And  now  the  vene- 
rable pastor,  with  Andrew  and  Mary  holding 
each  other  by  the  hand,  before  him,  and  his 
wife  by  his  side,  slowly  and  silently  left  the 
manse.  The  two  youngsters  tripping  on  cheer- 
fully, happy  enough  that  they  were  going  with 


24  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

their  parents.  Mrs.  Bruce  could  not  be  very 
sad  when  her  husband  was  by  her  side  :  and 
the  minister  had  prepared  himself  too  well  for 
this  event,  to  show  much  uneasiness.  Yet 
neither  he  nor  his  wife  could  help  dropping  a 
tear  as  they  passed  the  church,  and  entered  the 
street  of  the  little  village,  through  which  their 
road  lay.  But  the  grief  of  the  villagers  was  ex- 
cessive. They  saw  their  spiritual  guide,  their 
comforter,  their  adviser,  their  friend,  in  the 
coldness  and  severity  of  a  winter  morning,  with 
his  wife  and  children,  driven  from  his  comfort- 
able dwelling,  and  about  to  leave  them.  Would 
he  assemhle  them  no  more  on  the  Sabbath,  to 
refresh  their  souls  with  the  water  of  life  ? 
Would  they  see  him  no  more  going  from  door 
to  door  through  the  village,  relieving  the  poor, 
comforting  the  sick,  and  instructing  all  ?  What 
hardships  would  these  children,  and  that  amia- 
ble woman,  who  although  by  no  means  un- 
healthy, appeared  to  them  so  delicate,  have 
probably  to  endure  !  And  was  his  pulpit  to  be 
filled,  and  his  house  and  living  seized,  by  some 
time-serving,  cold-hearted  stranger  ? 

Full  of  these  sorrowful  thoughts,  every  in- 
habitant of  the  village,  both  old  and  young, 
crowded  about  Mr.  Bruce  and  his  family.  So 
anxious  was  every  one  to  be  near  their  beloved 
minister,  tha  rthey  eagerly  pressed  forward,  and 
often  compelled  him  to  stop.  He  conjured 
them  to  leave  him  :  but  it  was  not  till  they  had 
accompanied  him  more  than  a  mile  out  o'f  the 
village,  that  he  could  prevail  on  them  to  think 
of  parting  with  him.  Here  he  shook  hands 
with  each  of  them  j  exhorted  them  to  avoid  all 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  25 

evil ;  and  lifted  up  his  voice  and  blessed  them, 
while  they  stood  drowned  in  tears. 

Now  Mr.  Bruce  and  his  family,  with  a  few 
who  had  determined  to  accompany  him,  set 
forward  to  Braeside,  while  the  villagers  and 
peasants  returned  to  their  homes,  sorrowing  in 
heart,  and  determined  rather  to  suffer  all,  than 
make  any  compliance  to  an  ecclesiastical  gov- 
ernment, which  had  begun  so  harshly.  Such 
were  many  of  the  people,  and  such  many  of 
their  pastors,  whom  the  unwise  politicians  of 
those  times  thought  to  force  into  their  measures 
by  the  violence  of  persecution.  Mr.  Hill,  the 
farmer  of  Braeside,  a  worthy  old  bachelor,  had 
rendered  his  house  as  comfortable  as  he  }>ossi- 
bly  could  for  the  reception  of  the  new-comers  ; 
and,  with  what  articles  they  brought  along  with 
them,  and  with  Mrs.  Bruce's  ready  hand,  under 
which  everything  about  a  house  seemed  at 
once  to  take  its  proper  place,  they  found  them- 
selves, although  not  very  well  lodged,  yet  as 
well  as  they  had  expected.  The  house,  how- 
ever, like  most  of  the  farm-houses  in  those 
days,  had  only  two  apartments,  a  kitchen  and  a 
spence,  as  the  room  was  called.  The  room 
Mr.  Hill  gave  them  up  entirely,  and  the  kitchen 
was  common  to  him  and  them.  Mr.  Bruce 
had  been  deprived  of  his  stipend  due  for  the 
preceding  year.  It  had  been  always  small.  He 
was  by  nature,  as  well  as  principle,  generous 
and  charitable,  and  had,  therefore,  saved  no 
money.  It  was  evident  that  he  must  now  de- 
pend for  his  subsistence  on  the  free-will  offer- 
ings of  his  people  ;  and  in  these  they  were  not 
backward.  Although  Mr.  Hill  was  able  and 
C 


26  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

willing  enough  to  support  the  family  for  some 
time,  this  he  was  not  permitted  to  do.  Scarce- 
ly a  day  passed  but  some  of  Mr.  Bruce's  flock 
arrived  at  Braeside,  with  what  they  could 
spare  for  their  pastor  (for  such  they  still  con- 
sidered him)  and  his  family.  They  had  thus 
a  plentiful  supply  of  all  the  necessaries  of  life. 
The  education  of  Andrew  and  Mary  went  on 
as  usual.  Mr.  Bruce  preached  in  the  houses 
of  the  peasants,  or  in  the  open  fields,  on  Sun- 
days. Mrs.  Bruce  was  kinder  than  ever  to  her 
husband,  and  almost  as  cheerful.  Andrew  and 
Mary  were  healthy  and  content ;  and,  indeed, 
Avhile  they  were  permitted  to  remain  at  Brae- 
side,  they  had  not  much  to  complain  of. 

Meantime  the  violence  of  persecution  every 
day  increased.  The  ejected  clergy  were  for- 
bidden to  preach  even  in  the  fields  :  the  people, 
under  the  severest  penalties,  were  forbidden  to 
shelter  them,  or  even  to  give  them  a  morsel  of 
bread.  People  of  all  ranks  and  conditions  in 
life,  who  would  not  comply  with  the  tyranny 
of  the  times,  were  driven  from  their  houses, 
and  were  every  day  perishing  by  the  hand  of 
the  executioner. 

The  curates,  who  had  been  thrust  into  the 
livings  of  the  West,  were  the  most  active  in 
informing  against  the  covenanters.  The  zeal 
and  austere  morals  of  the  former  pastors  were 
a  continual  reproach  on  the  vicious  habits  and 
indolent  dispositions  of  many  of  those  prophets 
of  Baal,  as  they  were,  not  unfitly,  called  ;  and 
they  wished  to  have  that  example,  which  they 
were  unwilling  to  imitate,  out  of  their  sight. 

Mr.  Macduffj  the  curate  who  had  been  put 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  27 

into  Mr.  Bruce's  place,  was  a  Highlandman, 
and  really  understood  the  English  language,  as 
well  as  the  Scotch,  so  ill,  that  the  peasants 
among  whom  he  was  settled,  had  they  been 
willing  to  hear  him,  could  have  understood  lit- 
tle of  what  he  said.  He  was  a  robust  hunts- 
man-looking young  fellow,  as  ignorant  of  books, 
and  all  sorts  of  learning,  as  he  was  indecoroua 
in  character.  He  hunted,  fowled,  drank  with 
the  officers  who  were  stationed  in  the  village, 
and,  in  fact,  did  almost  everything  but  what 
was  becoming  the  character  of  a  clergyman. 
The  parishioners  regarded  him  with  horror, 
and  fled  from  his  presence  as  they  would  have 
done  from  a  beast  of  prey.  In  no  place  in 
Scotland  were  the  curates  well  attended  ;  but 
MacdufPs  church  was  entirely  deserted.  Nei- 
ther threats  nor  entreaties  could  induce  as 
many  to  collect  on  a  Sabbath  as  to  give  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  audience.  And,  what  has  been, 
perhaps,  seldom  attempted  in  any  other  place, 
soldiers  went  every  Sabbath  morning  through 
the  village,  and,  with  their  bayonets  on  their 
guns,  compelled  a  half  score  or  dozen  of  the  in- 
habitants into  the  church,  where  they  sat  with 
countenances  of  disgust  and  horror,  while  the 
unsacerdotal  curate  went  most  indecorously 
through  the  cold  and  formal  service  of  the  day. 
Mr.  Macduff,  had,  however,  abundance  of  that 
pride  which  is  founded  in  ignorance  :  was  natu- 
rally cruel  :  devoted  to  the  wicked  government, 
because  he  could  expect  only  to  be  countenanc- 
ed by  such  :  obsequious  to  every  mandate  of 
the  bishops,  because  from  them  he  held  his 
living  ;  and  withal  possessed  of  an  unbounded 


28  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

hatred  to  the  covenanters,  because  he  knew 
if  they  prevailed  he  would  soon  be  displaced. 
These  qualifications  rendered  him  fit  enough 
for  the  purposes  for  which  his  superiors  had 
chiefly  designed  him.  These  were,  to  harass 
and  destroy  the  presbyterians. 

To  assist  the  curates  in  gathering  information 
of  the  resorts  and  conventicles  of  the  covenan- 
ters, spies  were  numerously  employed.  Some- 
times they  mingled  with  the  people,  professing 
themselves  to  be  their  zealous  friends  :  some- 
times they  went  through  in  the  character  of 
travelling  merchants ;  and  sometimes  they  as- 
sumed the  garb  of  shepherds,  that  they  might 
thus  conceal  their  true  character,  and  therefore 
be  admitted  more  freely  into  the  designs  of  the 
covenanters.  Sharpe  had  multitudes  of  these 
in  his  pay,  scattered  over  the  country.  And  it 
is  not  surprising  that  they  brought  in  abundance 
of  information,  when  we  consider  that  many  of 
them,  and  those  the  vilest  and  most  worthless 
of  men,  were  paid  in  proportion  to  the  number 
of  accusations  they  preferred. — These  spies,  as 
long  as  the  covenanters  were  brought  to  any- 
thing like  trial,  were  always  witnesses  at  hand, 
ready  to  swear  anything  against  them. 

Two  of  these  wretches,  in  the  pay  of  Sharpe, 
were  entertained  by  Mr.  Macduff.  Every  day 
they  traversed,  in  one  character  or  other,  the 
surrounding  country,  and  always  returned  with 
abundance  of  information.  All  was  believedj 
or,  at  least,  pretended  to  be  believed,  that  they 
reported  ;  and  the  soldiers,  with  them  for  guides, 
were  sent  forth,  to  plunder,  to  apprehend,  to 
torture,  or  kill,  all  whom  those  scoundrels  ao 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  29 

cused  of  presbyterianism,  which  in  those  days 
was  termed  sedition. 

Mr.  Bruce  and  his  family  shared  in  the  in- 
creasing calamities  of  the  times.  Aller  residing 
a  twelvemonth  at  Braeside,  they  were  compel- 
led to  betake  themselves  to  a  wandering  life. 
Now  sheltered  in  some  barn  :  now  in  some 
shepherd's  hut ;  and  now  exposed,  without  cov- 
er, to  all  sorts  of  weather.  The  minister, 
especially,  and  his  son,  who  almost  always  ac- 
companied him,  were  often  compelled  to  hide 
themselves  in  the  caves  and  wild  glens  of  the 
country.  The  place  whither  they  most  fre- 
quently resorted  was  a  cave  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ayr,  about  five  miles  above  the  village.  It  had 
been  formed  in  the  precipitous  bank  by  the 
hands  of  men,  as  a  hiding-place  in  the  former 
troublous  times  of  Scotland,  and  was  roomy 
enough  for  admitting  five  or  six  persons.  The 
entrance  to  this  retreat  was  by  rude  and  difficult 
steps,  cut  out  of  the  stone  ;  and  over  its  mouth, 
concealing  it  from  the  view,  hung  the  straggling 
branches  of  the  birch  and  hazel,  that  had  struck 
their  roots  into  the  seams  of  the  freestone  rczk. 
Two  or  three  rude  seats,  some  straw  and  blan- 
kets, made  up  the  furniture  of  the  cave.  Here 
Mr.  Bruce  and  Andrew,  and  indeed,  Mrs.  Bruce 
and  Mary  too,  often  concealed  themselves ;  and 
hither,  in  the  darkness  of  night,  did  the  peasants 
of  the  surrounding  country  come  with  food  for 
their  worthy  pastor  and  his  family,  and  to  re- 
ceive, in  return,  instruction,  advice,  and  comfort. 

This  Mr.  Bruce  gave  them  with  all  the  pru- 
dence of  a  wise  man,  and  all  the  earnestness  of 


SO  THE  PERSECUTED  FAM1LV. 

a  serious  Christian.  He  exhorted  them  to  have 
all  their  trust  in  God  ;  to  bear  up,  with  becom- 
ing cheerfulness  against  the  severe  trials  to 
which  they  were  exposed.  He  called  them  to 
remember  how  much  Christ  had  suffered  when 
he  was  in  the  world,  and  with  what  calmness 
and  resignation  he  took  it  all.  He  warned  them 
to  beware  of  attempting  anything  against  the 
government ;  well  knowing,  however  much  he 
might  despise  the  exploded  doctrine  of  nonre- 
sistance,  that  the  covenanters,  deprived  as  they 
were  of  the  gentlemen  of  their  party,  who  were 
mostly  in  prison,  could  make  no  head  against 
their  oppressors  supported  by  a  strong  military 
force.  He  counselled  them  to  oppose  patience 
and  hope  to  the  swords  of  their  persecutors ; 
assuring  them,  that  God  would  at  length  inter- 
fere in  their  behalf.  And,  above  all,  he  com- 
forted and  sustained  the  minds  of  the  poor, 
hunted,  houseless  peasantry,  by  often  directing 
their  hopes  to  the  rewards  of  immortality. 
Nor  did  he  destroy  the  effect  of  his  teaching  by 
his  own  example.  The  following  conversation 
which  happened  one  night  in  the  forlorn  cave, 
will  show  how  bravely  the  persecuted  family 
bore  their  lot. 

The  night  to  which  we  have  alluded  was  in 
the  end  of  autumn.  The  minister,  with  his 
wife  and  children,  were  seated  in  the  cave.  A 
few  embers  burned  on  the  floor,  and  half  light- 
ed the  rude  habitation, — the  Ayr  was  heard 
murmuring  down  his  pebbled  bed, — the  wind 
whistled  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  blowing  in 
the  fallen  leaf  that  rustled  about  the  floor, — and 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  31 

the  lightning  flashed,  at  intervals,  its  momenta- 
ry gleam  into  the  solitary  abode. 

'  Do  you  remember,'  said  Mary  to  her  broth- 
er, *  how  fresh  and  beautiful  these  leaves  were 
in  summer?'  lifting  one  that  the  wind  rustled 
through  the  dwelling.  'You  remember  how 
we  watched  them  as  they  spread,  and  shaded 
the  mouth  of  the  cave  ?J 

'They  were  very  beautiful,'  said  Andrew, 
c  and  kept  the  wind  out  of  the  cave.  But  their 
season  is  past,  and  we  will  see  them  green  no 
more.' 

c  And  what  should  that  remind  you  of?'  said 
Mrs.  Bruce.  c  Should  it  not  remind  you  of  the 
transitory  nature  of  all  earthly  things  ?  We  all 
do  fade  as  a  leaf:  we  are  cut  down,  and  wither 
as  the  grass.  But  the  leaf  hangs  on  the  twig  till 
autumn  ;  and  falls  not  till  it  is  dried  and  wither- 
ed with  age.  We,  my  dear  children,  may  be 
cut  off  in  the  midst  of  our  days.  From  disease 
we  are  never  secure.  But  we  may  have  soon 
to  die  by  the  hand  of  violence.  Are  you  pre- 
pared, my  dear  children,  to  suffer  all  for  Christ  ? 
Do  you  repine  that  you  have  been  driven  from 
your  home,  to  seek  shelter  in  such  a  place  as 
this,  for  his  sake  ?' 

'  I  am  as  happy  here,'  said  Andrew,  f  as  when 
we  lived  at  the  village.  My  father  and  you 
have  taught  me  to  regard  my  duty  to  God  as 
the  end  of  my  being ;  and  I  am  resolved,  trust- 
ing in  his  grace,  to  suffer  the  utmost,  rather 
than  violate  it.  I  know  he  will  give  me  strength 
to  do  what  he  may  have  appointed  me.' 

c  Yes,'  said  Mary,  who  was  no  stranger  to  the 
Bible, '  His  grace  shall  be  sufficient  (or  us.  I 


33  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

know  what  he  says,  "  The  Lord  is  nigh  to  all 
them  that  call  upon  him,  to  all  that  call  upon 
him  in  truth.  He  also  will  hear  their  cry,  and 
save  them.'1 ' 

c  Yes,'  said  Mrs.  Bruce,  while  her  husband 
shed  a  tear  of  joy,  to  hear  his  children  talk  thus  ; 
'  yes,  if  you  put  no  trust  in  yourselves,  if  you 
believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  he  will  give 
you  resolution  and  strength  to  suffer  all  for  his 
sake.  "  Whatsoever  ye  ask  in  my  name,"  says 
that  Redeemer,  who  hath  all  power  in  heaven 
and  in  earth,  "  Whatsoever  ye  ask  in  my  name, 
you  shall  receive  it.' " 

*  Happy  are  all  those  who  trust  in  God,'  said 
Mr.  Bruce,  taking  up  the  conversation,  while  he 
threw  a  glance  of  unspeakable  satisfaction  on 
his  family.  t  Happy  are  all  they,  whatever  be 
their  external  circumstances,  whose  God  is  the 
Lord.  We  have,  it  is  true,  been  driven  from 
the  comforts  of  this  world's  prosperity  ;  but  we 
have,  therefore,  less  to  seduce  us  from  the  path 
of  holiness.  We  are  exposed  to  trials  ;  but, 
through  His  blessing,  they  will  prepare  us  the 
sooner  for  the  enjoyment  of  his  immediate 
presence.  We  are  exposed  to  the  winds  of 
night ;  but  our  souls  take  shelter  under  the 
wings  of  the  Most  High.  Our  enemies  are 
strong,  and  exceedingly  mad  against  us;  but 
He  who  is  for  us,  is  stronger  than  they  who 
are  against  us.  Those  lightnings  that  flash 
athwart  the  night  are  the  lightnings  of  God  : 
they  say  unto  him,  Here  we  are  ;  and,  at  his 
bidding,  can  lay  the  pride  of  the  wicked  in  the 
dust.  As  his  power  is  omnipotent  to  protect 
you,  my  dear  ones,  so  is  his  love  infinite.  It 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  S3 

passeth  all  knowledge.  We  are  lost  in  the  con 
templation  of  his  astonishing  love,  manifested  in 
our  redemption  through  his  Son.  He  hath  giv- 
en his  well-beloved  Son  lor  us,  vile  and  misera- 
ble sinners ;  and  surely  he  will  allow  nothing 
really  to  hurt  us.  What,  then,  should  we  not 
rather  do,  than  forsake  our  duty  to  him  ?  Se- 
verer sufferings  may  be  yet  awaiting  us,  my 
dear  ones.  But  let  us  always  lay  the  grasp  of 
Mir  dependence  on  God  ;  let  us  have  our  eye  on 
the  promised  land,  the  dwelling  of  life  and  im- 
mortality ;  and  let  us  suffer  without  a  murmur. 
O,  my  dear  ones,  in  this  trying  time,  may  we 
all  so  believe,  and  so  do,  that  we  may  find  our- 
selves approved,  when  men  shall  be  finally 
judged.  If  anything  should  occur  which  ma^ 
separate  us,  let  us  direct  our  steps  to  heaven, 
where  we  shall  meet,  to  part  no  more.  Our 
church  is  now  driven  to  trie  wilderness.  Tht 
blood  of  her  people  flows  on  the  scaffold  :  thei. 
groanings  are  heard  in  the  desert.  But  God 
hath  not  forsaken  her  :  she  shall  yet  shout  for 
joy,  and  clap  her  hands  for  gladness  of  heart 
We  may  be  gone,  my  dear  ones,  ere  the  day  of 
her  mourning  end  ;  but,  by  suffering  cheerfully, 
we  shall  have  done  our  part  :  we  shall  have  our 
reward  :  and,  when  our  church  takes  her  sor- 
rowful harp  from  the  willow,  and  tunes  it  to 
the  melody  of  joy  in  the  peaceful  temple,  our 
memories  shall  not  be  forgotten.' 

When  Mr.  Bruce  had  thus  spoken,  he  kneel- 
ed down  with  his  family  in  the  cave,  and  be- 
sought for  them  the  blessing,  even  life  that  shall 
never  end.  And  then  you  might  have  heard  the 


84  THE  PERSECUTED  FAiMILY 

psalm  of  praise  mingling  its  holy  melody  with 
the  blast  of  night. 

Still,  Religion,  thou  art  happiness  !  Thou 
hast,  indeed,  trials  appointed  for  thy  followers  ; 
but  thou  comest  in  the  strength  of  God,  and 
leadest  them  out  through  them  all.  As  the 
darkness  of  the  world  thickens  around  them, 
thou  sheddest  a  hrighter  light  on  the  cloudless 
clime  whithor  *b?f~  are  travelling.  As  the  cup, 
of  which  tixe  wiu  edness  of  man  forces  them  to 
drink,  comes  nearer  the  bitterness  of  its  dregs, 
thou  pourest  more  copiously  into  their  souls  the 
sweetness  of  eternal  life.  As  they  have  days 
of  severe  fatigue  and  wandering,  and  nights 
more  wearisome  and  watchful,  thou  layest  the 
repose  of  their  souls  nearer  the  hosom  of  their 
God.  Wo  unto  him  who  seeketh  his  happiness 
apart  from  thee  !  He  shall  be  miserably  dis- 
appointed. 


CHAPTER  IV 


-Their  blood  is  shed 


Tn  confirmation  of  the  noblest  claim,— 

Our  claim  to  feed  upon  immortal  truth, 

To  walk  with  God,  to  be  divinely  free. 

Yet  few  remember  them.    They  lived  unknown. 

Till  persecution  dragged  them  into  fame, 

And  chased  them  up  to  heaven.    Their  ashes  flew 

—No  marble  tells  us  whither.' 

COWPEE. 

FOUR  years  of  suffering  had  now  passed  since 
Mr.  Bruce  and  his  family  were  driven  from 


THE  PERSECt/rED  FAMILY.  35 

their  comfortable  home.  But  although  many 
of  his  flock  had  been  thrown  into  prison,  and 
sent  into  banishment,  had  endured  the  cruelties 
of  torture,  or  died  on  the  scaffold,  and  although 
they  had  themselves  often  made  the  narrowest 
escape  from  the  vigilance  of  their  fell  pursuers, 
none  of  them  had  yet  fallen  into  their  hands. 
The  time  was  not  far  off,  however,  when  they 
were  to  feel  more  severely,  the  cruelties  of  per- 
secution. 

On  a  Sabbath  evening,  in  the  month  of  Sep- 
tember, Mr.  Bruce,  with  his  wife  and  children, 
left  the  cave,  to  meet  some  of  his  flock  in  a  wild 
glen  in  the  neighbourhood,  where  he  was  to 
deliver  a  sermon.  When  they  arrived  at  the 
appointed  place,  there  was  about  a  score  assem- 
bled ; — some  of  them  stood,  some  seated  them- 
selves on  the  cold  turf,  while  Mr.  Bruce  took 
his  station  by  a  large  stone,  on  which  he  rested 
the  Bible,  and  read,  or  rather  repeated,  for  the 
night  was  dark,  the  following  verses  from  the 
twenty-third  psalm : 

•  The  Lord's  my  shepherd,  I'll  not  want; 

He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green  :  he  leadeth  me 

The  quiet  waters  by. 

My  soul  he  doth  restore  again  ; 

And  me  to  walk  doth  make 
Within  the  paths  of  righteousness, 

Even  for  his  own  name's  sake. 

Yea,  though  I  walk  in  death's  dark  vale, 
Yet  will  I  fear  none  ill : 


36  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

For  thou  art  with  me;  and  thy  rod 
And  staff  me  comfort  still.' 

Then,  as  it  is  beautifully  expressed  by  Gra- 
hame, 


-rose  the  song,  the  loud 


Acclaim  of  praise.     The  wheeling  plover  ceased 
Her  plaint;  the  solitary  place  was  glad; 
And,  on  the  distant  cairn,  the  watcher's  ear 
Caught,  doubtfully  at  times,  the  breeze-borne  note.' 

After  this,  Mr.  Bruce  lifted  up  their  fervent 
prayer  to  the  throne  of  grace  ;  and  then  repeat- 
ed his  text,  from  the  same  psalm  which  had 
been  sung,  '  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death,  yet  will  I  fear  no  evil  : 
for  thou  art  with  me ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staff  they 
comfort  me.' 

This  consolatory  passage  be  illustrated  by 
showing  how  they,  who  had  the  rod  and  staff 
of  the  Almighty  to  support  them,  needed  fear 
no  evil.  This  rod  and  staff,  he  showed,  were 
no  less  than  the  infinite  love,  and  wisdom,  and 
power  of  God,  engaged  in  the  preservation  of 
the  righteous.  This  truth  he  illustrated  at  con- 
siderable length,  and  with  more  of  elegance  than 
was  common  to  the  preachers  of  the  time.  We 
shall  content  ourselves,  however,  by  giving  the 
concluding  part  of  the  discourse. 

*  If  then,5  said  the  fervent  preacher,  '  we  have 
the  love,  and  the  wisdom,  and  the  power  of 
God  engaged  in  our  protection,  what  have  we 
to  fear  from  the  cruelties  of  men,  the  malignity 
of  evil  spirits,  or  the  terrors  of  death  itself? 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  37 

His  love  fills  our  hearts  with  unspeakable  de- 
light, and  secures  us  the  guidance  of  his  wisdom, 
and  the  all-shielding  covert  of  his  almighty 
power.  If  we  had  to  set  our  faces  to  the  machi- 
nations of  this  world,  under  the  direction  of  our 
own  wisdom,  we  would  soon  be  entangled  in  its 
snares,  and  decoyed  into  the  pit  which  is  dug 
for  our  destruction.  But  to  guide  us  through 
every  footstep  of  this  earthly  journey,  to  guide 
us  through  every  footstep  of  the  dark  pass  of 
death,  we  have  the  infinite  wisdom  of  God, 
which  hath  all  things  present  to  its  eye  in  the 
natural  and  moral  world,  in  heaven,  in  earth,  in 
time,  and  in  eternity.  The  most  sagacious 
spirit  that  contrives  our  ruin  in  the  darkest 
gloom  of  the  bottomless  pit,  is  noticed  by  our 
God,  and  those  means  taken,  which  can  never 
err  in  their  operation,  to  defeat  its  purposes 
against  us.  He  observes  all  the  plottings  of 
man's  wisdom  against  us ;  and  turns  the  best- 
laid  schemes  of  their  wickedness  to  the  profit 
of  his  people.  The  kings  of  the  earth  set  them- 
selves, and  the  rulers  take  counsel  together, 
against  the  Lord,  and  against  his  Anointed. 
But  he  that  sitteth  in  the  heavens  laughs  :  the 
Lord  hath  them  in  derision.  He  casteth  the 
glance  of  his  all-comprehending  intelligence 
through  all  the  varied  workings  of  natural  and 
moral  being,  the  most  intricate,  the  must  pro- 
found, the  most  secret :  and  the  wisdom  of  the 
wisest  agency,  that  acts  not  by  his  guidance, 
seemeth  to  him  the  folly  of  fools. 

8  But,  however  ardent  the  love  of  God  might 
be  to  his  children,  however  provident  his  wis- 
dom, if  there  was  any  being  that  could  resist 


58  THE  IjffftSECUTED  FAMILY. 

his  power,  still  he  would  not  be  safe.  But  our 
Father  hath  in  himself  all  the  resources  of  infi- 
nite might.  In  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  everlast- 
ing strength.  He  hath  created  all  things.  The 
arm  of  his  omnipotence  sustains  them  all. 
Turn  your  eyes  to  the  stars,  that  look  through 
the  breaking  of  the  clouds  :  the  multitude  of 
their  host,  are  suspended  to  the  girdle  of  his 
strength,  and  guide  all  their  revolutions  to  the 
bidding  of  his  will.  He  bringeth  forth  Mazza- 
roth  in  his  season,  and  guideth  Arcturus  with 
his  sons.  He  stilleth  the  raging  of  the  waves  : 
and  the  fierceness  of  the  storm  lays  itself  to  rest 
at  the  whisper  of  his  word.  And  shall  any 
other  of  the  beings  he  hath  made, — the  spirits 
of  darkness,  or  the  worms  of  this  footstool, — 
stand  up  in  proud  rebellion  against  him,  and 
try  to  wrest  the  people  whom  he  loves,  the 
people  for  whom  he  hath  given  his  own  Son, 
out  of  his  hand  ?  Did  Pharaoh's  or  Senna- 
cherib's hosts  accomplish  aught  victoriously 
against  his  children  ?  Did  the  powerful  and 
malignant  dealings  of  Satan  touch  the  life  of 
Job  ?  No,  my  friends.  In  the  estimation  of 
our  God,  the  strength  of  man  is  less  than 
weakness  ;  and  the  most  stout-hearted  of  the 
spirits  of  perdition  trembles  at  the  uttering  of 
his  voice,  and  is  held  fast  in  the  chains  of  his 
power.  It  is  this  God,  my  friends,  who  is  our 
God.  It  is  this  all-wise,  all-mighty  being,  who 
hath  sworn  by  the  eternal  Godhead,  that  he 
who  perseveres  in  well-doing,  who  fights  the 
fight  of  faith,  and  turns  not  back,  shall  sing 
victory  over  all  his  enemies,  and  shall  inherit 
glory,  and  honor,  and  immortality. 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILT.  S9 

'  We  are  persecuted,  my  friends ;  we  may 
soon  have  to  lay  down  our  lives.  But  let  us 
lean  on  the  rod  and  the  staff  of  our  Redeemer  ; 
and  whatever  be  the  cunning  of  man's  con- 
trivance against  us,  it  shall  be  turned  to  our  ac- 
count ;  and  whatever  be  the  shape  that  death 
may  assume,  we  shall  behold  him  shorn  of  his 
terrors.  O,  my  friends  !  let  us  do  what  the 
Bible  hath  taught  us  to  be  our  duty  ;  let  us  keep 
our  conscience  inviolate  :  and  whatever  may  be 
appointed  for  us  here,  we  shall  have  the  welcome 
of  our  Father  and  Redeemer  at  last  into  the 
dwellings  of  immortality.' 

When  Mr.  Bruce  had  finished  his  sermon,  so 
well  calculated  to  encourage  the  minds  of  hi.s 
suffering  audience,  he  took  occasion  to  speak 
shortly  of  the  times,  the  substance  of  which  we 
shall  record. 

It  was  easy  to  see,  he  said,  that  the  presbyte- 
rians  would  yet  be  persecuted  with  still  greater 
severity  :  that  their  persecutors  wished  to  grati 
fy  their  ambition  and  avarice  with  the  spoils  of 
the  covenanters ;  and  it  was  hard  to  say  how 
rar  these  passions  would  carry  them.  It  had 
oeen  the  labor,  he  observed,  of  the  Stuarts,  for 
several  reigns,  to  get  into  their  hands  the  eccle- 
siastical supremacy  in  Scotland.  They  had 
hitherto  been  disappointed,  and  would,  he  had 
no  doubt,  be  so  still.  *  That  infatuated  race,' 
continued  he,  *  seems  to  be  hastening  its  own 
ruin.'  And  the  venerable  pastor  dropped  a  tear, 
as  he  thought  of  the  incurable  folly  of  that 
house.  The  nation,  he  could  see,  would  tire 
of  oppression,  and  would  most  certainly  assert 
its  liberties.  Oppression  would,  as  usual,  de- 


40  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

Btroy  itself  by  its  own  cruelties.  But,  for  the 
time,  that  patience  and  hope  must  be  their  sup- 
port :  that  anything  attempted  against  their  op 
pressors,  when  they  were  in  no  state  for  it, 
would  only  render  their  condition  more  intole- 
rable :  that  ready  submission,  for  the  time,  to 
everything  that  violated  not  conscience,  and 
patient  endurance  of  those  evils  which  were 
measured  out  to  them,  were  the  means  which, 
under  the  blessing  of  God,  would  at  length 
most  certainly  restore  to  them  and  their  child- 
ren, the  blessings  of  civil  and  religious  liberty. 

Such  were  this  man's  sentiments,  on  whose 
head  the  infatuated  administration  of  the  time 
had  set  a  price,  as  a  rebel  and  a  sower  of  sedi- 
tion :  and  such  were  the  sentiments  of  many  of 
those  heroes  of  the  covenant,  whom  some  his- 
torians represent  as  the  visionary  and  fanatic 
leaders  of  a  visionary  and  fanatic  sect.  We  do 
not  pretend  to  say  that  the  sentiments  of  all  the 
covenanters  were  as  moderate  and  just  as  those 
of  Mr.  Bruce.  Among  a  great  number,  there 
will  always  be  weak  and  turbulent  minds  ;  and, 
under  severe  sufferings,  they  will  be  driven  to 
extravagance.  The  calumniators  of  the  cove- 
nanters ought  to  remember,  that  none  of  them 
became  bad  subjects  till  oppression  had  render- 
ed them  desperate  ;  and  that,  if  some  of  them 
latterly  adopted  not  very  rational  sentiments 
about  civil  government,  the  great  body  of  the 
presbyterians  who  suffered  at  that  time  approv- 
ed as  little  of  their  notions  as  their  persecutors 
did. 

The  little  congregation  had  again  joined  in  a 
song  of  praise,  and  the  minister  was  just  about 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  41 

to  dismiss  them  with  the  blessing,  when  sud- 
denly they  heard  the  trampling  of  horses,  and, 
in  a  moment,  saw  advancing  rapidly  towards 
them,  with  lighted  torches  in  their  hands,  a 
number  of  dragoons.  Not  exj)ecting  any  alarm 
at  such  an  hour  and  place,  they  had  neglected 
to  appoint  a  watch.  A  little  eminence,  which 
the  soldiers  had  been  taught  by  the  spies,  who 
aoieu  as*  their  guides,  to  keep  between  them 
and  the  conventicle,  had  concealed  from  them 
the  light  of  the  torches,  until  the  dragoons  were 
almost  upon  the  little  assembly.  Short  as  the 
time  was  before  the  soldiers  could  reach  them, 
they  fled  into  a  morass,  near  to  which  they  for- 
tunately were  ;  and  the  softness  of  the  ground 
prevented  the  pursuit  of  the  horsemen.  But 
when  the  commanding-officer  saw  that  they 
were  likely  to  escape,  naturally  cruel  and  blood 
thirsty,  and  chagrined  at  the  loss  of  his  prey, 
he  ordered  his  men  instantly  to  discharge  their 
carabines,  after  the  flight  of  the  poor  people ; 
and,  without,  waiting  to  examine  the  result  of 
his  orders,  wheeled  and  rode  off. 

Several  of  the  people  were  hurt,  but  Mrs. 
Bruce  received  a  mortal  wound.  '  I  am  gone,' 
she  said,  while  her  husband  caught  her  in  his 
arms  to  keep  her  from  falling.  '  I  am  killed.  I 
must  leave  you.  O,  my  dear  husband  !  I  leave 
these  children  to  your  care  :  I  leave  you  all  to 
the  care  of  my  God  ! '  She  tried  to  say  more  ; 
but  death  was  too  near.  She  threw  one  look 
on  her  son  and  daughter  :  clasped  her  hands 
convulsively  about  her  husband,  and  expired  in 
his  arms. 

Mr.  Bruce  for  some  time  held  her  fondly  in  his 


42  THS  rs-SECUTED  FAMILY 

embrace,  and  stood  speechless  and  motionless. 
Andrew  wept  not ;  but  threw  himself  on  the 
ground  in  the  depth  of  silent  grief.  Mary 
shrieked,  and  took  hold  of  the  bloody  corpse  of 
her  mother,  while  the  peasants  gathered  round, 
and  wept  in  silence. 

It  was  some  time  before  any  one  could  find 
sel (-command  enough  to  speak.  Andrew,  whose 
vigorous  mind  would  not  permit  him  to  give 
himself  long  np  to  unavailing  sorrow,  was  the 
first  to  break  me  mournful  silence. 

'  Father,3  ru*  said, '  let  us  now  consider  what 
is  best  to  be  done.  We  cannot  stay  here.5 

Mr.  Bruce,  at  ti  ese  words  of  his  son,  recov- 
ering himself  a  't.t  !e,  Wretched  the  bloody  corpse 
on  the  heath,  ajd  lifbng  up  his  hands  to  heav- 
en, in  a  tone  of  resignation,  said, 'The  Lord 
giveth,  and  the  Lord  ta.-^eth  away  :  blessed  be 
the  name  of  the  Lord!' 

After  a  short  c  nsultation,  it  was  determined 
to  carry  the  dead  body  to  a  neighbouring  hut. 
Assisting  in  turn  u  carry  the  corpse,  they  took 
their  way  over  the  broken  mosses  to  the  place 
agreed  on.  On  their  arrival,  the  first  thing  was 
to  settle  where  the  body  should  be  interred. 
Mr.  Bruce  wished  to  be  present  at  the  inter- 
ment ;  but  this  he  could  not  be  if  they  buried 
the  remains  of  his  wife  in  the  village  church- 
yard :  for  he  was  sure  to  be  apprehended  if  he 
appeared  so  publicly.  And  yet  he  thought  it 
was  something  disrespectful  to  bury  her  in  the 
moor. 

'  It  matters  not,'  said  Andrew,  when  he  saw 
his  lather's  hesitation ;  *  it  matters  not  where 
our  bodies  rest.  There  is  no  distinction  of 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  43 

place  in  the  grave.  Is  it  any  difference  to  my 
mother  where  we  lay  her  ashes  ?  God  will 
have  his  eye  upon  them  ;  and  angels  will  hold 
the  place  in  honor.  For  my  part,  had  I  my 
choice,  I  would  rather  be  laid  at  last  in  the 
solitary  glen  of  the  moor,  than  be  entombed 
amidst  the  mockery  of  funeral  j>omp,  and  have 
the  marble  monument  to  record  my  praise.5 

*  You  are  right  my  son,'  replied  his  lather. 
'  The  grave  is  a  bed  of  rest  to  the  just.  Their 
bodies  rest  in  hope  ;  and  it  matters  not  where 
they  lie.' 

It  was  now  resolved  that  the  remains  of  Mrs. 
Bruce  should  be  buried  next  evening  ;  and  the 
place  appointed  for  laying  them  to  rest  was  near 
to  where  she  hail  been  shot. 

When  they  had  thus  settled,  and  after  join- 
ing in  prayer  with  the  sorrowing  few  who  had 
accompanied  him  to  the  hut,  Mr.  Bruce,  sad  in 
heart,  withdrew  to  the  cave  ;  for  the  search  after 
him  was  so  vigilant,  that  he  durst  not  remain  a 
night  even  in  this  remote  and  lonely  hut.  Ma- 
ry refused  to  leave  her  mother's  corpse ;  and 
Andrew  staid  to  watch  over  and  comfort  his 
sister. 

Next  evening,  Mr.  Bruce  returned  to  the 
hut.  About  twenty  peasants  had  assembled. 
A  rude  coffin  had  been  prepared  :  and,  under  the 
covert  of  night,  the  mournful  procession  moved 
slowly  towards  the  place  of  interment.  The 
clouds,  clothed  in  the  sombre  garments  of 
mourning,  stood  still  in  the  heavens  :  and  here 
and  there,  from  out  their  rifted  sides,  peeped  a 
solitary  star,  with  an  eye  that  seemed  to  weep 
as  it  looked  on  the  wasteful  heath,  and  glim- 


44  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

mered  on  the  sorrowful  countenances  of  the 
mourners.  Sadly  down  their  glens  murmured 
the  streams  of  the  wilderness  ;  and  the  woful 
voice  of  the  snipe  traversing  the  wide  air,  the 
forlorn  whistle  of  the  plover,  and  the  melan- 
choly sound  of  the  wind,  that  now  and  then 
rose  on  the  heath,  fell  on  the  ear  of  Mr.  Bruce 
like  the  accents  of  some  doleful  prophecy,  pre- 
saging to  him  and  his  family  the  coming  of  a 
still  more  wasteful  desolation. 

When  the  procession  arrived  at  the  place  of 
interment,  which  had  been  chosen  near  to 
where  Mrs.  Bruce  had  been  murdered,  a  grave 
was  dug,  into  which  the  coffin  was  et  down, 
and  the  attendants  covered  it  u.> ;  while  Mr. 
Bruce  and  his  two  children  watered  with  their 
tears  the  cold  earth,  that  now  hid  from  their 
eyes  the  one  who  was  dearest  to  their  souls. 
'  But  there  is  a  joy  in  grief,  when  peace  dwells 
in  the  bosom  of  the  sad.'  They  sorrowed  not 
as  those  who  have  no  hope.  Mr.  Bruce  wip- 
ed the  tear  of  affection  from  his  eye,  and  thus 
addressed  the  peasants,  who  could  not  refrain 
their  tears,  as  they  stood  around,  and  looked 
on  the  grave. 

c  Weep  not,  my  dear  friends,-  said  the  resign- 
ed man  :  c  she  hath  done  her  part  well.  She 
loved  her  God,  and  served  him ;  and  he  hath 
now  taken  her  to  himself.  Happy  they  who 
are  thus  taken  from  the  evils  of  this  world  ! 
Although  we  have  been  compelled  to  do  our 
last  office  to  her  under  the  darkness  of  night ; 
although  we  have  erected  no  marble  to  record 
her  memory,  she  shall  b?  i,cid  among  the  hon- 
orable of  heaven.  Le.  as  too  be  prepared  to 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  45 

lie  down  in  the  grave.  If  we  be  fitly  prepared 
for  this,  it  matters  not  when  or  in  what  man- 
ner we  die.  The  sooner  we  reach  our  Father's 
house  the  better.  But  we  must  fight  out  our 
day,  like  the  true  soldiers  of  Jesus  Christ.  We 
must  not  repine  that  he  keeps  us  long  from  our 
home.  He  knows  best  when  to  call  us  home 
to  rest.  Let  us  in  his  strength,  fight  the  gixxl 
fight  of  faith.  Let  us  abstain  more  carefully 
than  ever  even  from  the  appearance  of  evil. 
Let  us  devote  ourselves  wholly  to  God.  Let 
us,  my  friends,  be  prepared  to  die  well,  that, 
when  the  earthly  house  of  this  tabernacle  shall 
he  destroyed,  we  may,  like  all  the  righteous, 
have  a  building  with  God,  an  house  not  made 
with  hands,  eternal  in  the  heavens.' 

When  the  minister  had  thus  said,  he  bade 
the  peasants  farewell  ;  and  with  Andrew  and 
Mary  returned  to  the  cave. 


CHAPTER  V. 

*  The  clouds  of  winter  gather:  fast  the  leaves, 
One  after  one,  fall  from  the  storm -beat  tree 
And  o'er  the  humbled  face  of  Nature  flap 
The  wings  of  Desolation.     'Tis  the  hour 
And  power  of  darkness.     Men  of  evil  life, 
Of  horrid  cruelty,  now  compass  round 
The  just  man's  bed,  with  chains,  and  swords,  and  death.' 

ANON. 

IN  the  meantime,  an  incident  took  place  in 
the  south  of  Scotland,  which  rendered  the  con- 
dition of  the  covenanters  more  intolerable. 


46  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

The  persecutors  in  that  quarter  had  laid  a 
heavy  fine  on  a  poor  old  man  ;  and,  being  una- 
ble to  pay  it,  the  soldiers  bound  him  ;  and,  re- 
gardless of  his  prayers  and  tears,  were  dragging 
him  to  prison,  when  a  handful  of  peasants,  who 
had  gathered  around,  pitying  the  poor  man, 
and  indignant  at  the  cruelty  of  such  a  proceed- 
ing, set  violently  upon  the  soldiers,  and  rescued 
the  prisoner.  Aware  that  no  pardon  could  be 
expected  for  this  action,  they  took  arms  to  de 
fend  themselves.  Their  number,  small  at  first, 
soon  increased  to  nearly  two  thousand  ;  and,  in 
the  heat  of  their  rage,  they  determined  to  march 
to  Edinburgh,  to  compel  the  government  to 
redress  their  grievances.  The  wise  and  the 
prudent  among  them  saw  the  impolicy  of  this 
attempt,  and  tried  every  means  to  dissuade 
their  friends  from  their  rash  purpose.  They 
represented  the  strength  and  discipline  of  the 
king's  forces  ;  and  their  own  want  of  arms  and 
discipline,  and  the  impossibility  of  procuring 
skilful  commanders,  as  the  gentlemen  of  their 
party  in  the  West  were  either  in  confinement 
or  had  fled  out  of  the  country.  They  exhorted 
them  rather  to  disperse,  and  seek  shelter  from 
the  cruelty  of  their  oppressors  in  flight,  and 
hiding,  than  thus,  unprepared  as  they  were,  to 
rush  on  certain  destruction.  Moreover,  they 
affirmed,  that  it  would  be  more  consistent  with 
the  spirit  of  Christianity,  yet  to  try  to  procure 
a  mitigation  of  their  sufferings  by  petition  and 
entreaty. 

Nevertheless,  the  multitude,  afraid  to  lay 
down  those  arms  they  had  once  taken  up,  their 
minds  rendered  desperate  by  suffering,  and  en- 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  47 

couraged  by  some  of  the  less  prudent  of  their 
pastors,  directed  their  march  towards  the  capi- 
tal. This  was  the  very  point  which  the  perse- 
cuting government  aimed  at.  They  wished  to 
have  some  better  pretext  than  they  yet  had  to 
plunder  and  ruin  the  presbyterians.  'They  had 
often  attempted,  by  their  emissaries,  to  excite 
some  insurrection.  This  their  own  cruelty  had 
now  produced.  And  a  band,  which,  at  the 
most,  was  never  more  than  two  thousand,  and 
which  had  taken  arms  without  any  previous 
concertment,  was  magnified,  by  the  reports  of 
the  oppressors,  into  a  general  and  preconcerted 
rebellion  of  all  the  West. 

The  result  of  this  insurrection  is  well  known. 
Having  reached  the  neighbourhood  of  Edin- 
burgh, reduced,  by  fatigue  or  fear,  to  less  than 
half  of  their  former  number,  and  having  effect- 
ed nothing  to  better  their  condition,  they  were 
returning  peaceably  home  by  the  Pentland  Hills, 
when  they  were  pursued  and  set  upon  by  Dal- 
?.iel,  at  that  time  commander  of  the  king's  forces 
in  Scotland.  They  fought  for  some  time  with 
more  spirit  than  could  have  been  expected  from 
men  in  their  forlorn  situation  :  but  a  party  of 
soldiers,  from  another  quarter,  coming  behind 
them,  they  were  thrown  into  disorder,  and  put 
to  flight.  Fifty  were  killed  on  the  spot,  (where 
a  very  handsome  monument  has  since  been 
erected  to  their  memory  ;)  some  fell  in  the  pur- 
suit ;  and  a  considerable  number  were  taken 
prisoners.  These  were  treated  without  mercy. 
Ten  of  them  were  executed  on  the  same  scaf- 
fold, and  their  heads  and  hands  sent  to  Lanark, 
where,  in  passing,  they  had  renewed  the  cove- 
4 


48  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

nant.  Besides  these,  many  were  sent  into  the 
west  country,  arid  executed  before  their  own 
doors. 

The  persecutors  had  now  got,  as  we  have 
already  mentioned,  the  pretext  they  wanted  ; 
and  they  hesitatrd  riot  to  proceed  to  the  most 
wanton  and  most  inhuman  cruelties.  Daniel 
and  Drummoiid  who  were  now  the  command- 
ers of  the  military  in  the  West,  added  the  fe- 
rocity of  the  Muscovites  (in  which  service  they 
had  for  some  time  been)  to  the  cool  arid  inflexi 
ble  cruelty  which  characterized  the  persecutors 
in  general.  Dragoons  were  stationed  in  every 
village  :  and  even  the  private  men  had  power 
to  shoot,  without  any  form  of  trial,  all  who  re- 
fused to  take  the  test  to  government.  In  no 
place  were  the  poor  scattered  members  of  Scot- 
land's church  safe  from  the  vigilant  search  of 
their  enemies.  The  ejected  clergymen,  espe- 
cially, were  pursued  with  unremitting  diligence  ; 
and,  among  these,  none  were  hunted  with 
greater  eagerness  than  Mr.  Bruce. 

The  curate,  Mr.  MacdufT,  who  had  succeed- 
ed to  his  place,  as  he  disliked  all  the  covenant- 
ers, so  he  hated  Mr.  Bruce  with  a  perfect 
hatred.  He  considered  this  worthy  man,  whom 
he  knew  to  be  still  lurking  about  the  parish,  as 
the  chief  cause  of  preventing  the  people  in  that 
quarter  from  complying  with  the  established 
form  of  worship.  The  villagers,  too,  were 
sometimes  bold  enough  to  contrast,  even  to  his 
face,  his  character  with  that  of  their  former 
minister.  These  things  were  sufficient  to  irri- 
tate an  ignorant  and  cruel  being,  such  as  Mr. 
Macduff  was,  to  implacable  resentment  against 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILT.  49 

Mr.  Bruce  ;  and  he  determined  to  have  him 
cutoff. — Night  and  day,  the  two  spies,  whom 
the  curate  still  entertained,  were  in  search  of 
him  :  and  their  search  was  the  more  diligent, 
as  government  had  not  only  offered  a  conside- 
rable reward  for  his  apprehension,  hut  Mr. 
Macduff  had  promised  them  a  handsome  sum 
himself,  if  they  would  bring  him  certain  intelli- 
gence how  this  good  man  might  be  taken. 

Mr.  Bruce,  although  he  seldom  left  the 
bounds  of  his  former  charge,  had  still  however, 
eluded  their  search.  He  was  so  esteemed  and 
beloved  by  the  peasants  among  whom  he  wan- 
dered, that  they  would  have  cheerfully  risked 
their  own  lives  to  procure  the  escape  or  con- 
cealment of  their  pastor.  And  what  was  very 
surprising,  such  was  the  faithful  secrecy  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  place,  to  whom  alone  it  was 
known,  that  although  Mr.  Bruce  had,  for  seve- 
ral years,  made  the  cave  the  place  of  his  fre- 
quent resort,  it  had  never  been  discovered  by 
his  enemies.  An  occurrence  at  length  took 
place,  through  which  the  persecutors  hoped  to 
secure  the  apprehension  of  Mr.  Bruce. 

Andrew  had  one  afternoon  left  his  father  and 
Mary  in  the  cave,  to  amuse  himself,  as  he  fre- 
quently did,  with  the  conversation  of  a  shej>- 
herd,  who  kept  his  flocks  hard  by.  Scarcely, 
however,  was  he  half  a  mile  away  from  the 
cave,  when  a  party  of  soldiers,  with  Macduff, 
came  suddenly  upon  him.  They  had  been  out, 
we  believe,  chiefly,  that  day,  for  the  purpose  of 
killing  wild-fowl ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  they 
required  every  one  they  met  to  take  the  test, — 
an  oath  by  which  the  party  swearing  renounced 


50  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

the  covenant,  owned  the  king  as  supreme  head 
of  the  church,  and  tendered  submission  to  the 
then  existing  ecclesiastical  establishment.  An- 
drew, without  hesitation,  refused  to  comply. 
According  to  the  laws,  or  rather  to  the  lawless- 
ness of  the  times,  this  refusal  authorized  the 
soldiers  to  shoot  the  young  man  on  the  spot. 
But  although  his  dress  was  that  of  a  peasant, 
they  remarked  something  so  superior  and  strik 
ing  in  his  countenance,  as  well  as  in  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  spoke,  which  immediately  led 
them  to  the  suspicion  that  he  might  be  the  son 
of  some  gentleman  of  rank  in  disguise,  from 
whom  useful  discoveries  might  be  elicited,  or 
on  whose  account  a  handsome  sum  of  money 
might  be  extorted. 

Induced  by  those  considerations,  they  spared 
his  life  for  the  present,  and  conducted  him  a 
prisoner  to  the  village.  On  their  way  thither, 
they  repeatedly  endeavoured  to  learn  his  name  ; 
but  Andrew,  knowing  well  that  if  they  once 
knew  whose  son  he  was,  he  should  have  no 
chance  of  escape  without  discovering  his  father, 
was  careful  to  conceal  his  name.  When  they 
reached  the  village,  however,  the  inhabitants 
gathered  round  to  see  the  prisoner ;  and,  per- 
ceiving the  son  of  their  beloved  minister,  they 
assailed  the  soldiers  with  the  most  bitter  execra- 
tions, exclaiming  that  the  judgment  of  heaven 
would  fall  upon  them  ;  and  crying,  at  the  same 
time,  '  Will  ye  murder  the  son  of  our  dear  min- 
ister ?  Ye  have  already  murdered  his  wife,  and 
is  your  cruelty  not  yet  glutted  ? ' 

When  Mr.  Macd'uff  heard  these  words,  <  The 
son  of  our  minister,5  he  looked  to  Dalziel,  who 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  81 

was  himself  of  the  party,  and  said  with  a  smile 
of  grim  satisfaction,  '  We  have  made  good 
sport  to-day.  We  shall  now  get  on  the  scent 
of  the  old  fox.'* 

Dalziel  now  asked  Andrew  if  he  was  the  son 
of  the  rebel  Mr.  Bruce  ?  tor  so  he  termed  this 
meek  and  peaceable  servant  of  Jesus.  Andrew 
replied  boldly,  '  I  am  the  son  of  Mr.  Bruce.' 
This  short  answer,  and  the  tone  and  expression 
of  countenance  with  which  it  was  uttered,  con- 
vinced Dal'/iel  that  they  had  got  a  youth  to 
deal  with  from  whom  severity  would  not  be 
likely  to  elicit  much. 

They  now  shut  up  Andrew  in  the  church, 
which  for  some  time  had  been  more  used  as  a 
prison  than  a  place  of  worship ;  and  having 
placed  a  guard,  retired  to  consult  how  they 
might  best  draw  the  desired  intelligence  of  Mr. 
Bruce  from  his  son. 

The  brutal  MacdufT  was  for  proceeding  im- 
mediately to  torture  ;  hut  Dalziel,  who  had  bet- 
ter observed  Andrew's  spirit,  resolved  to  try 
him  first  by  gentle  means.  Accordingly,  he  re- 
turned to  the  young  man,  and  addressed  him  in 
the  following  manner  : — 

'  Your  refusing  to  take  the  test,  young  man,' 
said  Dalziel,  '  you  know,  according  to  the  laws 
of  your  country,  forfeits  your  life ;  and  you 
might  he  led,  without  further  delay,  to  execu- 
tion. But  we  have  no  desire  to  proceed  to  such 
an  extremity  with  you.  Your  appearance  has 

*  The  curate's  language,  which  would  be  ridiculous 
if  introduced  as  he  used  it,  I  have  translated  into 
English. 


52  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

gained  you  our  respect ;  and  -we  have  a  strong 
wish  to  mitigate  the  rigor  of  the  law  in  your 
case.  But  this  we  are  not  authorized  to  do, 
without  some  little  submission  on  your  part. 
We  shall  not  require  of  you,  however,  to  take 
the  test,  since  it  seems  to  be  so  unacceptable  to 
you.  If  you  will  only  tell  us  how  we  may  find 
your  father,  you  may  have  your  liberty ;  and 
you  need  not  be  afraid  of  your  father's  life.  He 
has,  indeed,  rendered  himself  obnoxious  to  gov- 
ernment ;  but  we  promise  that  his  life  shall  be 
safe.  We  shall  be  careful  that  nothing  worse 
happen  him  than  a  short  imprisonment.5 

To  these  arguments,  he  added,  that  if  the 
young  man  could  find  it  agreeable  to  make  the 
necessary  compliances,  and  if  he  liked  the  mil- 
itary life,  he  would  endeavour  to  procure  him 
some  honorable  post.  Or,  if  he  rather  wished 
to  prepare  himself  for  the  church,  he  would  re- 
commend him  to  those  from  whom  he  might 
expect  preferment. 

Andrew,  distrusting  the  promises  Dalziel  had 
made  concerning  his  father,  as  much  as  he  de- 
spised the  offers  proposed  to  himself,  looking 
firmly  in  the  soldier's  face,  absolutely  refused  to 
make  any  discovery  of  his  father. 

c  Torture,'  exclaimed  Macduff,  who  stood  by, 
'  will  make  you  reveal  what  our  mercy  has  fail- 
ed to  do.' 

'  Yes,'  said  Dalziel,  ewe  still  promise  that 
your  father's  life  shall  not  be  touched.  But  if 
you  will  not  make  the  discovery  we  want,  we 
have  torture  prepared  that  shall  make  you  speak 
out  And  if  you  still  persist  in  your  refusal, 
your  own  life  shall  pay  for  your  obstinacy 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  63 

We  leave  you  till  to-morrow  morning  to  consid- 
er, whether  you  will  accept  your  own  liberty, 
with  no  serious  danger  to  your  father,  or  expose 
yourself  to  torture  and  death,  which  may,  per- 
haps, not  preserve  him  long  from  our  hands.' 
So  saying,  the  inquisitors  withdrew,  to  spend  the 
night  in  mirth  and  revelry. 

Andrew,  who  had  no  doubt  that  the  promises 
made  concerning  his  father  would  be  broken  the 
moment  his  persecutors  had  it  in  their  power, 
determined,  without  hesitation,  not  to  say  a 
single  word  that  might  lead  to  his  apprehension. 
Aware  also,  that  what  had  been  threatened 
against  himself  would  be  most  certainly  execu- 
ted, he  prepared  for  meeting  it  like  a  man  and  a 
Christian. 

As  it  chanced  that  night,  there  was  no  prison- 
er in  the  church  except  Andrew.  In  and  around 
the  church,  as  it  stood  at  a  little  distance  from 
the  village,  all  was  stillness,  save  when  it  was 
broken  by  the  guard  chanting  a  verse  of  a  song, 
or  cursing  the  times,  which  kept  them  on  foot  at 
midnight.  The  interior  of  the  building  was 
faintly  lighted  by  the  moon-beams  that  glim- 
mered through  the  old  gothic  windows.  From 
the  windows  Andrew  could  see  the  manse,  half 
concealed  amidst  aged  trees.  He  saw,  too,  the 
pulpit,  where  from  his  father's  lips  had  often 
dropped  the  word  of  life.  He  looked  to  the  seat 
where  he  used  to  sit  with  Mary  and  his  mother  : 
he  cast  his  eye  on  the  manse,  where  they  had 
lived  so  happily.  But  his  mind  soon  hurried 
from  these  objects  to  what  the  family  had  suffer- 
ed since  persecution  had  driven  them  from  their 
home.  They  had  wandered  on  the  mountains  • 


54  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

they  had  endured  cold,  and  fatigue,  and  fasting  : 
at  midnight,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  they  had 
been  often  unsheltered  from  the  severity  of  the 
weather.  His  mother,  so  tender,  so  affection- 
ate, had  already  fallen  by  the  hands  of  their 
persecutors  ;  and  her  ashes  lay  cold  in  the  lone- 
liness of  the  moor.  His  father  and  sister  were 
at  this  moment  lurking  in  a  forlorn  cave,  and  in 
bitterness  of  soul  on  his  account.  He  himself 
was  a  lonely  prisoner  :  to-morrow  to  feel  the 
agonies  of  torture,  and  to  be  cut  down  like  a 
tree  in  the  verdure  of  spring.  These  were  the 
sorrowful  and  oppressive  thoughts  which  forced 
themselves  on  the  mind  of  the  young  man. 

Andrew,  as  we  have  already  said,  had  by  na- 
ture sufficient  of  that  boldness  and  fortitude  of 
spirit,  which  bends  not  easily  beneath  misfor- 
tune :  and  the  many  sufferings  and  hardships  he 
had  endured,  had  only  served  to  call  forth  and 
strengthen  the  natural  firmness  of  his  mind  : 
For  although  trying  circumstances  may  depress 
and  overwhelm  the  weak  and  the  timid,  they 
never  fail  to  summon  forth  the  energies  and 
heighten  the  courage  of  a  vigorous  spirit. 

But  Andrew  trusted  not  to  the  bravery  of 
human  strength.  He  set  himself  not,  like  the 
distressed  hero  of  romance,  to  call  up  the  natu- 
ral fortitude  of  his  soul,  and  to  prepare  to  meet 
all  the  evils  that  were  gathering  around  him  in 
the  strength  of  man-created  might.  He  had 
been  taught,  that  the  strength  of  man  is  weak- 
ness ;  his  wisdom  folly  ;  and  all  the  resolutions 
of  his  natural  bravery,  fear  and  trembling  at  the 
approach  of  death.  And  he  turned  himself  to 
the  throne  of  that  God  whom  he  had  always 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  55 

served,  knowing  he  had  sufficient  help  to  give 
in  every  time  of  need  ;  and  in  the  fervor  of  con- 
fiding prayer,  sought  the  protection  of%  his  JXDW- 
er,  which  no  being  can  resist ;  the  guidance  of 
his  wisdom,  which  never  errs  ;  and  the  com  torts 
of  his  free  grace,  which  can  never  be  exhausted. 
He  had  seen  the  wickedness  and  deceitfulness 
of  his  own  heart :  he  had  been  made  acquainted 
with  the  strictness  and  purity  of  God's  law  ; 
and  he  thought  not  of  preparing  to  meet  hU 
God  in  the  uprightness  of  his  own  character. 
But  he  looked  with  a  humble  and  believing  eye 
to  the  cross  of  Christ;  and  on  the  atonement 
which  he  has  made,  he  placed  all  his  hopes  of 
justification  and  acceptance  witli  God.  Verily, 
ne  put  no  trust  in  an  arm  of  flesh  ;  but  he  took 
unto  him  the  whole  armor  of  God  :  his  loins 
girt  about  with  truth ;  having  on  the  breast- 
plate of  righteousness,  the  shield  of  faith,  the 
helmet  of  salvation,  and  the  sword  of  the  Spirit. 
While  the  afflictions  of  this  world  were  thicken 
ing  around  him,  and  the  terrors  of  death  before 
his  face,  he  had  the  peace  of  God  dwelling  in 
his  heart,  the  hope  of  eternal  life  brightening 
in  heavenly  vision  ;  and  he  could  sing,  in  prison, 
and  in  the  loneliness  of  midnight,  The  Lord 
is  on  my  side ;  I  will  not  fear  what  man  can 
do  unto  me.  Yea,  though  I  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no 
evil  ;  for  thou  art  with  me  :  thy  rod  and  thy 
staff  they  comfort  me.  He  felt  that,  strong  in 
the  all-sufficiency  of  God,  nothing  could  seduce 
him  from  his  duty  ;  none  of  the  powers  of 
wickedness  could  wound  his  soul.  Verily,  the 
Christian's  weapons, 


66  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 


•from  the  armory  of  God, 


Are  given  him  tempered  so.* 

While  Andrew  was  engaged  with  such 
thoughts  as  these,  his  father  and  sister,  in  the 
solitude  of  their  cave,  were  deeply  afflicted  on 
his  account.  The  shepherd,  to  meet  whom 
Andrew  had  left  them,  observed  him  apprehend- 
ed, and  carried  the  tidings  to  his  father.  Mary 
wept  for  her  brother  as  if  he  had  been  already 
dead  ;  and  Mr.  Bruce  feared  the  worst.  He 
knew,  and  he  was  proud  at  the  thought,  that 
Andrew  would  not  renounce  his  religion.  He 
was  well  aware,  also,  that  no  mercy  from  the 
persecutors  was  to  be  expected  for  his  son. 
Those  into  whose  hands  he  had  fallen,  he  could 
easily  foresee,  would  leave  no  cruelty  unexer- 
cised  against  the  son  of  one  who  was  so  hated 
by  them,  and  whose  life  they  had  so  eagerly 
sought.  The  distressed  father  thus  looked 
upon  the  death  of  his  son  as  almost  certain. 
And,  if  ever  a  father  had  reason  to  love  a  son, 
or  be  grieved  at  the  intimation  of  his  untimely 
death,  that  father  was  Mr.  Bruce. 

Andrew  was  an  only  son.  From  his  child- 
hood, till  the  present  time,  when  he  was  in  his 
nineteenth  year,  he  had  been  his  constant  com- 
panion. He  had  watched  with  the  tenderest 
care  the  developement  of  his  faculties  ;  turned 
their  energies  into  the  proper  channel ;  and  he 
had  feen  his  care  rewarded,  by  the  rapid  pro- 
gress his  son  had  made  in  the  acquirement  of 
knowledge.  His  talents,  the  acquisitions  he  had 
already  made,  his  love  of  learning,  and  his  de- 
voted ness  to  religion,  warranted  the  highest 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY".  57 

hopes  of  his  future  usefulness  and  respectability 
in  the  world. 

This  was  enough  to  render  Andrew  peculiar- 
ly dear  to  his  father.  But  he  had  more  than 
this  to  draw  his  son  nearer  to  his  heart.  An- 
drew had  heen  his  companion  in  suffering  :  and 
the  calm  and  unmurmuring  manner  in  which 
he  had  endured  the  severest  hardships,  had  not 
only  taught  his  mother  and  sister  to  bear  their 
afflictions  with  patience,  but  even  Mr.  Bruce 
had  frequently  learned  courage  and  constancy 
from  his  son.  Those  who  have  suffered  much 
together,  have  had  opportunities  of  remarking 
one  another's  qualities,  and  of  endearing  them- 
selves to  each  other  by  numberless  offices  of 
kindness,  which  can  never  have  occurred  to 
those  who  have  passed  all  their  days  in  prosperi- 
ty. These  opportunities  had  been  too  often  af- 
forded to  the  minister  and  his  family.  Andrew 
had  gradually  become  the  second  hope  in  which 
they  relied.  In  all  his  wanderings,  he  had 
scarcely  ever  left  his  father's  side.  He  had 
watched  with  him,  at  cold  midnight,  on  the  side 
of  the  mountains  and  in  the  glen  of  the  desert  : 
he  had  fled  with  him,  from  the  fell  pursuit  of 
the  enemy,  exposed  to  the  storms  and  darkness 
of  winter  :  he  had  hungered  with  him,  he  had 
mourned  with  him,  he  had  endured  every  hard- 
ship with  him  :  and,  in  all,  he  had  been  his 
father's  comforter,  and  had  showed  him  the 
most  ardent  filial  affection.  It  was  this  sou 
whom  Mr.  Bruce  was  now,  in  all  likelihood,  to 
see  taken  from  him  by  the  merciless  hand  of 
persecution,  in  the  very  spring  of  his  days. 
And  we  need  not  wonder,  if  he  found  it  hard, 


58  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

in  this  instance,  to  submit  with  resignation  to 
the  unsearchable  appointment  of  Heaven. 

But,  if  the  trial  was  severe,  he  had  the  best 
comfort  which  a  parent  can  have,  when  he  sees 
a  beloved  child  about  to  be  wrested  from  him  by 
the  hand  of  death.  He  had  every  reason,  how- 
ever, to  believe,  that  whatever  his  enemies  might 
accomplish  against  the  life  of  his  son,  his  soul 
would  be  received  into  the  bosom  of  his  God. 

Now  consoling  himself  and  his  daughter  with 
those  sure  and  certain  consolations,  derived  from 
that  trust  and  confidence  in  God,  which  the 
holy  scriptures  point  out  as  the  duty  of  every 
Christian,  under  the  most  severe  afflictions, — 
now  turning  to  the  throne  of  grace,  in  prayer 
for  his  son, — and  again  giving  way  to  all  the 
depth  and  bitterness  of  paternal  sorrow, — he 
spent  the  night  in  the  gloomy  cave,  hoping, 
sometimes,  that  the  morrow's  light  would  bring 
him  an  account  of  his  son's  escape  ;  and  yet 
fearing,  oflener,  it  would  announce  his  death. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


-suffering  for  Truth's  sake, 


Is  fortitude  to  highest  victory. 

And,  to  the  faithful,  death  the  gate  of  life.' 

MILTON. 

NEXT  morning,  Dalziel  and  MacdufT entered 
the  church  ;  and  the  former  instantly  asked  An- 
drew, if  he  had  come  to  a  resolution  about  what 
had  been  proposed  last  night  ? 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  59 

'  My  duty  was  so  plain,'  said  Andrew, '  that 
it  required  no  deliberation.  1  am  prepared  to 
die.' 

*  But  you  are,  perhaps,  not  prepared  for  tor- 
ture,' said  MacdurF,  with  a  grin  of  fiendlike  ma- 
lignity, pointing  to  a  thumbkin,  which  one  of 
the  spies,  whom  we  formerly  mentioned,  held 
in  his  hand,  by  the  curate's  side.     *  That  will 
make  you  speak  out.' 

Andrew  glanced  an  eve  of  scorn  on  the  curate, 
looked  without  emotion  at  the  instrument  of 
torture,  and  remained  silent. 

Dalziel  then  asked  nlm,  if  he  would  not  send 
some  one  to  his  father,  to  persuade  him  to  deliver 
himself  up  to  them  ?  again  repeating  the  prom- 
ise of  safety  to  his  father's  life. 

'  Thrust  your  sword  through  my  body,'  said 
Andrew;  *  but  think  not  to  extract  from  my 
lips  one  word,  by  a  ~  the  tortures  which  you  can 
inflict,  that  may  lead  to  the  discovery  of  my  fa- 
ther. My  onlv  frar  is,  that  he  may  hear  of  ray 
danger  and  deliver  up  himself.' 

*  Try  that  on  vour  thumb,  then,'  said  Dalziel, 
ordering  the  spy.  at  the  same  time,  to  apply  the 
instrument  of  torture,  while  the  dragoons,  that 
kept  guard,  hex:  the  young  man  to  prevent  re- 
sistance. 

The  thuniSkin  was  an  instrument  of  exqui- 
site torture  ;  ana  on  this  occasion  it  was  applied 
without  mercy.  For  sometime  Andrew  bore 
the  pain  it  occasioned  with  a  firm  and  unchang- 
ing counter  rce;  but,  as  the  instrument  was 
screwed  closer  and  closer  to  his  thumb,  the 
color  in  his  lace  came  and  went  rapidly,  and 
he  writhed  himself  with  the  agonizing  pain. 


CO  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

Dalziel,  seeing  it  was  in  vain  to  expect  any 
discovery,  was  just  about  to  order  the  tormen- 
tor to  desist,  when  Macduff  prevented  him,  by 
saying,  l  Another  twist  yet ;  it  may  have  more 
virtue  in  it.5  The  obedient  spirit  of  wickedness 
turned  the  screw  :  and  the  thumb  of  the  young 
man  was  heard  crashing  within  the  instrument. 
Nature  could  bear  no  more.  The  blood  entire- 
ly forsook  his  face,  and  he  fell  down  in  a  swoon. 

Fearing  that  their  hopes  of  yet  eliciting  some- 
thing might  be  disappointed  by  the  immediate 
death  of  the  sufferer,  they  hastened  to  relax  the 
instrument.  And  as  soon  as  Andrew  had  re- 
covered a  little,  he  was  again  asked  whether 
he  would  endure  the  same  again,  or  discover 
his  father. 

(  You  may  torture  me  to  death,5  said  he,  in 
a  firm  and  resolute  tone  ;  (  but.  I  trust  in  God,  in 
the  Rock  of  my  Salvation  ;  and  you  cannot 
touch  my  soul.  It  is  covered  by  the  shield  of 
the  Almighty.  You  shall  not  wring  one  word 
from  me  to  endanger  my  iather.  The  Lord 
comfort  him.' 

Having  tried  the  torture  again,  with  the  same 
effect,  Dabiel,  by  nature  and  habit  cruel,  and 
enraged  that  his  cruelty  had  entirely  failed  in 
the  purposes  for  which  it  had  been  exercised  ia 
this  instance,  ordered  the  young  man  to  be  im- 
mediately led  forth  to  execution ;  alleging  An- 
drew's refusal  to  take  the  test  as  a  ground  i:*i' 
this  proceeding,  although  the  true  reason  \v&3 
his  refusal  to  discover  his  father.  Hanging,  as 
being  the  most  ignominious  of  deaths,  was  u.at 
appointed  ibr  Andrew  :  and  the  gibbet,  on  'iivis 
occasion,  was  an  old  elm-tree,  near  the  manse, 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  61 

under  which  he  and  Mary  had  often  frolicked 
in  the  days  of  their  childhood.  He  had  just 
been  led  to  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  the  spy, 
who  was  the  only  one  to  be  found  who  would 
undertake  the  task,  was  fixing  the  fatal  rope  to 
one  of  its  branches,  when  the  attention  of  all 
present  was  suddenly  arrested  by  the  appear- 
ance of  a  young  woman,  who,  screaming  wildly, 
rushed  through  among  the  soldiers,  and  clasped 
her  arms  around  Andrew's  neck. 

This  was  his  sister.  One  of  the  villagers, 
who,  on  the  preceding  night,  had  learned  the 
determination  of  Dalziel  with  regard  to  Andrew, 
before  day,  went  to  the  cave,  and  informed 
Mr.  Bruce. 

*  I  will  go  and  put  myself  into  their  hands,1 
exclaimed  Mr.  Bruce,  as  soon  as  he  heard  the 
tidings.     '  Better  that  I  die  than  lose  my  son.1 
And  he  was  making  to  leave  the  cave,  for  this 
purpose,  when  Mary  laid  hold  of  him,  and  be- 
seeched  him  not  to  go. 

*  They  will  murder  you  both,'  said  she,  weep- 
ing ;  *  and  what  shall  become  of  me  ?     Rather 
let  me  go.     I  will  plead  for  my  brother's  life  ; 
and  surely  I  will  move  their  compassion.' 

'  No,'  said  her  father  :  «  you  know  them  not. 
The  tiger  of  the  desert  hath  more  of  compassion 
than  they.  I  know  with  what  violence  they 
hate  me  and  my  family.  No,  no  :  nothing  but 
my  death  will  save  my  son.  But  why  do  1 
thus  tarry  here  f  Perhaps  they  lead  him  out 
even  now  to  execution.' 

'  Go  not,  my  father,  I  beseech  you,'  said 
Mary.  '  Do  you  think  that  your  death  will 
save  Andrew  ?  O  no,  my  dear  father  :  they 


62  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY 

will  murder  you  both.  I  shall  he  left  alone  in 
the  workl.  Be  persuaded,  my  dearest  father. 
Let  me  gi.  I  am  sure  they  will  have  pity  on 
us.J 

Mr.  Bruce,  considering  that  it  was  indeed 
likely  that  his  delivering  himself  up  would  not 
procure  rhe  liberty  of  his  son, — a  spirited  young 
man,  deeply  imhued  with  principles  at  enmity 
with  tne  existing  establishments, — and  imagin- 
ing that  the  tears  and  entreaties  of  Mary,  which 
appeared  to  him  so  eloquent,  might  excite  some 
compassion  in  the  hearts  of  those  into  whose 
hands  Andrew  had  fallen  ;  and  taking  pity  on 
his  Daughter,  who,  he  saw,  would  be  left  in  a 
state  of  distraction  if  he  went  to  give  himself 
up,  looked  sorrowfully  upon  her,  and,  wiping  a 
tear  from  his  eye,  said, — 

'  Go,  then,  my  daughter  :  But  stop, — I  may 
lose  you  too.  Who  knows  where  their  cruelty 
may  "end  ?  But,  no,  no.  They  will  have  pity 
on  your  youth  and  your  tears.  Surely  there 
is  not,  in  the  form  of  man,  aught  so  cruel  that 
will  murder  my  children.  God  will  protect 
vou.  Haste  you,  my  daughter.  It  is  your 
'brother's  life  that  calls  you.  Haste  to  the  vil- 
jage  ;  and  the  Lord  be  with  you  and  my  son.' 
The  distressed  father  then  knelt,  to  wrestle  at 
the  throne  of  grace  :  while  Mary  flew,  with  the 
speed  of  lightning  to  the  village. 

She  arrived,  as  we  have  seen,  just  soon 
enough  to  have  an  opportunity  of  trying  what 
her  entreaties  could  do.  The  apparatus  of 
death,  which  she  noticed  at  her  approach,  and 
her  brother,  standing  bound  between  two  sol- 
diers, had  so  terrified  her,  that  it  was  some 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY  63 

time  before  she  could  so  recover  herself,  as  to 
be  able  to  speak. 

1  You  have  come,'  said  Andrew  to  her,  when 
she  had  recovered  a  little  ;  *  you  have  come  to 
afflict  yourself  in  vain.  My  death  is  deter- 
mined.5 

*  No,  they  will  not  kill  you,'  replied  his  sis- 
ter :  *  these  men  will  iv»t  kill  you.  And  then 
falling  on  her  knees  before  Dal'/ iel,  whom  she 
knew,  by  his  dress,  to  be  of  highest  authority, 
and  with  tears  fast  flowing  down  her  face,  more 
lovely  in  grief,  thus  addressed  him  : — 

1  Have  pity  on  my  brother.  If  you  knew 
how  my  father  and  I  love  him,  you  would  not 
kill  him.  I  am  sure  he  has  never  hurt  you. 
Ever  since  we  were  driven  from  the  manse,  he 
has  lived  peaceably  in  the  moors.  He  has  liv- 
ed with  me  :  and  \  never  saw  him  do  injury  to 
any  one.  Have  pity,  sir,  on  our  family.  You 
have  already  taken  our  dear  mother  from  us  : 
and  will  you  now  take  from  me  an  only  brother, 
t.nd  from  my  father  an  only  son  ?  O,  sir,  have 
you  no  son,  that  you  may  know  what  my  fa- 
ther will  feel  ?  Have  you  no  brother,  dear  to 
you  as  mine  is  to  me  ?  My  dear,  dear  broth- 
er !  O,  let  him  go,  and  I  will  die  in  his  place  !J 

These  words,  when  uttered  by  Mary,  were 
eloquent ;  and  Dabiel  felt  some  movements  of 
humanity  within  him. 

'  If  your  father  will  put  himself  into  our 
hands,'  said  he,  {  we  will  save  the  life  of  your 
brother.' 

'Wicked  and  unfeeling  wretch  !'  exclaimed 
Andrew,  interposing  here;  'wicked  and  inhu- 
5 


64  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

man  wretch  !  wouldst  thou  have  her  save  her 
brother's  life  at  the  expense  of  her  father's  ? 
Nor  would  you  set  me  at  liberty,  though  my 
father  were  in  your  hands.  Entreat  them  no 
more,  my  dear  sister, — Weep  not  for  me.  1 
suffer  with  joy,  for  the  glory  that  is  before  me. 
Leave  me,  dear  Mary.  Go  ;  and  if  ever  you 
see  our  father,  tell  him  I  died  with  joy  for  the 
liberties  and  religion  of  Scotland.  Tell  him 
not  to  regret  that  he  did  not  deliver  himself 
up.  It  would  have  been  certain  death  to  him, 
and  would  not  have  saved  me.  Tell  him,  that  I 
am  prouder  to  lay  down  my  life  for  him,  and 
for  the  righteous  cause  in  which  Scotland  suf- 
fers, than  if  I  had  been  lifted  up  to  the  loftiest 
pinnacle  of  human  distinction.  Dear  sister,  be 
you  comforted.  I  go  to  our  mother.  I  go  to 
the  enjoyments  of  heaven.  You  and  my  fa- 
ther will  soon  follow  :  and  there  we  shall  again 
dwell  together  in  peace,  far  beyond  the  change 
and  turbulence  of  time.' 

Dalziel  had  been,  as  we  have  already  observ- 
ed, rather  moved  by  Mary's  entreaties  ;  and 
still,  as  he  saw  her  turning  from  her  brother's 
embrace,  and  again  casting  herself  down  before 
him  in  the  agonies  of  unspeakable  grief,  he  felt 
something  like  the  kindliness  of  compassion 
hovering  about  his  heart ;  and  he  looked  to 
Macd  ufF,  with  an  eye  that  said,  '  Might  we  not 
have  some  mercy  on  this  girl  ?  ' 

The  curate  with  a  look  of  horrible  ferocity, 
and  in  a  tone  of  reproach,  replied, — (  Will  you 
be  drawn  from  your  duty  by  the  snivelling  of 
girls  ?  If  you  pardon  rebels  for  their  tears, 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  65 

you  will  surely  be  accounted  a  very  merciful 
man  ;  and  the  government  will  certainly  sus- 
Jain  the  grounds  of  pardon.' 

Dalziel,  as  if  ashamed  that  he  had  shown  he 
yet  possessed  some  little  human  feeling,  with- 
out waiting  a  moment,  ordered  the  executioner 
to  proceed.  At  this  word,  Mary  shrieked  wild- 
ly, fainted,  and  was  immediately  carried  towards 
the  village  by  some  women  who  had  gathered 
around  her  on  her  arrival. 

Andrew  now  mounted  the  scaffold,  which  had 
been  erected  beside  the  old  elm.  Here  he  was 
again  asked,  if  he  would  not  save  his  life,  by 
complying  with  the  terms  formerly  offered 
The  young  Christian,  strong  in  the  might  ot 
God,  regarding  his  tempters  with  a  look  of  in- 
dignation, remained  silent.  *  Prepare,  then,  in- 
stantly to  die,'  said  Dalziel. 

Andrew  kneeled  down  ;  and,  having  recom- 
mended his  soul  to  the  care  of  his  God,  he  arose, 
and  exclaimed,  <  Farewell,  my  father,'  as  if  he 
could  have  heard  him.  *  Farewell,  my  sister. 
The  light  of  the  sun,  the  hopes  of  earth,  fare- 
well !  And,  O,  holy  Father,  ere  I  depart,  hear 
my  cry.  In  thy  mercy,  haste  to  deliver  the 
suffering  people  of  Scotland.  Now,  welcome 
death  ;  and  welcome  eternity  ! '  When  he  had 
thus  said,  the  executioner  did  as  he  had  been 
ordered  :  and  the  soul  of  this  Christian  hero 
fled  away  to  receive  the  crown  of  life. 

What  suffering  was  here  !  What  did  a  fa- 
ther and  a  sister  feel !  And  how  might  they 
have  escaped  it  all  ?  If  they  had  deserted  the 
cause  of  liberty  and  religion  ;  if  they  had  sub- 
mitted tamely  to  those  chains,  which  a  licentious 


66  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

and  tyrannical  government  had  forged  for  them, 
and  which,  but  for  their  noble  resistance,  and 
that  of  their  fellow-sufferers,  might  have  thir 
day  been  fastened  around  our  nocks,  this  per 
secuted  family  might  have  lived  in  peace  in  their 
manse,  undisturbed  and  uninjured  by  the  troub- 
les of  the  times.  But  their  souls  despised  the 
thought.  They  had  the  glory  of  God  in  their 
view, — they  had  the  liberty  of  their  country  at 
their  heart, — they  had  the  welfare  of  us,  their 
posterity,  before  their  eyes, — and,  without  a 
murmur,  they  laid  down  their  lives  in  the 
righteous  cause. 

Is  there  no  one  that  loves  to  wander  about 
Ziion,  'and  the  flowing  brooks  beneath,  that 
wash  her  hallowed  feet,'  and  to  sing  on  sa- 
cred harps  the  achievements  of  the  saints  ?  Is 
there  no  one  warmed  with  the  flame  of  their 
devotion,  and  touched  near  the  heart  with  their 
patriotic  sufferings,  that  will  twine  laurels  to 
their  sacred  memory  into  the  sweet  numbers 
of  immortal  melody  ?  Is  the  theme  not  soft 
enough  for  the  refined  ear  of  modern  taste,  or  is 
it  too  sacred  for  the  song  of  the  bard  ?  But 
why  should  we  call  for  the  poet's  lyre  ?  Even 
now,  their  praises  sound  from  harps  angelic: 
'  What  are  these  which  are  arrayed  in  white 
robes  ?  and  whence  come  they  ?'  t  These  are 
they,'  respond  the  choirs  of  heaven,  { these  are 
they  which  come  out  of  great  tribulation,  and 
have  washed  their  robes,  and  made  them  white 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb.  Therefore  are  they 
before  the  throne  of  God,  and  serve  him  day 
and  night  in  his  temple  :  and  he  that  sitteth  on 
the  throne  shall  dwell  among  them.  They 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILr.  67 

shall  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more, 
neither  shall  the  sun  light  on  them,  nor  any 
heat.  For  the  Lamb,  which  is  in  the  midst  of 
the  throne,  shall  feed  them,  and  shall  lead  them 
unto  living  fountains  of  waters  :  and  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes.' 

After  the  execution,  Dalziel  and  Macduff 
having  stood  for  a  little,  glutting  their  eyes 
with  the  effects  of  their  cruelty,  or  rather,  of 
the  government  under  which  they  served,  Mac- 
duff,  sadly  disappointed  at  the  failure  of  this  at- 
tempt to  draw  Mr.  Bruce  into  his  hands,  said 
to  Dalziel,  c  Might  we  not  try  what  torture 
would  elicit  from  the  daughter  ?  She  might  be 
less  obstinate ;  or  the  father,  moved  by  her 
sufferings,  might  deliver  himself  up  to  us.' 

f  Inhuman  man,'  replied  Dalziel,  touched  with 
some  compunctious  visitings  of  nature, '  wouldst 
thou  lay  thy  hand  on  the  distracted  girl  ?  No. 
I  will  not  permit  it.  Let  us  find  the  father  as  we 
may.  But  the  daughter  shall  not  be  touched.' 

Macduffi  being  thus  reproved  by  one  who 
was  noted  for  his  inflexible  rigor  towards  the 
covenanters,  ignorant,  savage,  crocodile-like  as 
he  was,  seemed  to  feel  a  slight  movement  of 
shame ;  and,  without  resuming  the  subject,  said 
to  Dalziel,  t  Let  us  go  and  despatch  the  pris- 
oners whom  the  soldiers  brought  in  this  morn- 
ing.' 

The  corpse  of  the  martyred  youth  was  left 
hanging  upon  the  tree  till  evening,  when  some 
of  the  villagers  ventured  to  take  it  down  ;  and, 
having  dug  a  grave  beneath  the  shade  of  the 
elm,  laid  the  remains  of  the  son  of  their  minis- 
ter in  the  narrow  house. 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ONE  grand  and  peculiarly  excellent  charac- 
teristic of  the  Christian  religion  is,  that  its  re- 
sources are  always  in  proportion  to  the  wants 
of  its  true  professors.  If  the  wickedness  and 
cruelty  of  men  gather  about  them  with  a  more 
frowning  aspect,  their  Redeemer  looks  upon 
them  with  a  kinder  countenance.  If  the  ca- 
lamities and  sufferings  of  life  embattle  them- 
selves thicker  and  thicker  around  them,  the 
objects  on  which  they  have  fixed  their  hopes, 
beyond  the  grave,  come  into  a  better  light,  and 
fill  their  souls  more  abundantly  with  their  heav- 
enly relishes. 

The  truth  of  this  remark  was  well  illustrated 
in  the  conduct  of  Mr.  Bruce.  When  he  re- 
ceived the  tidings  of  his  son's  death,  with  the 
account  of  the  unmurmuring  and  triumphant 
manner  in  which  he  had  closed  his  short  life, 
the  resigned  father,  looking  to  heaven,  said, 
'  My  son,  thou  hast  died  in  a  good  cause.  The 
name  of  the  Lord  be  magnified.' 

Having  uttered  these  words,  he  turned  sud- 
denly to  the  peasant,  who  had  brought  the  sad 
intelligence,  and  said, c  My  son  is  now  safe  ;  but 
where  is  my  daughter  ?  Have  they  murdered 
her  too  ?' 

( Your  daughter,'  replied  the  peasant,  c  is  in 
the  village,  with  the  old  woman  whom  she 
used  to  be  so  fond  of.  She  was  so  overcome  by 
her  brother's  cruel  death,  that  she  remained  for 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  69 

some  time  in  a  state  of  insensibility  :  but  she 
is  now  recovered  somewhat :  although  they  are 
afraid  she  is  still  in  a  dangerous  condition.' 

'  I  knew  it,'  said  Mr.  Bruce,  *  I  knew  she 
would  never  survive  her  brother's  death.  Her 
heart  was  too  tender.  It  is  broken  :  it  is  broken. 
O,  my  dear  daughter  !  must  I  lose  thee  too  ? 
My  two  children  in  one  day ! '  '  O,  Father  in 
heaven  !'  he  then  exclaimed,  f  thou  knowest 
what  is  best  for  me,  and  all  that  is  mine.  Do 
with  us  as  seemeth  good  unto  thee.'  And  then 
addressing  himself  to  the  peasant,  said,  (  Can 
I  not  see  her  once  ere  she  depart  ?  I  must  see 
her.  I  will  venture  into  the  village  under  the 
shadow  of  night.  If  I  should  fall  into  my  ene- 
mies hands,  the  Lord  will  deliver  my  soul.' 

'  You  must  not  venture,'  said  the  peasant. 
'  If  you  fall  into  their  hands,  we  will  all  lose  a 
father,  who  is  our  instructor  and  comforter  in 
all  our  sufferings.  Your  daughter  may  soon  be 
able  to  meet  you  in  a  place  where  you  shall  be 
in  no  danger.' 

( Nay,'  said  the  affectionate  father,  s  but  I 
must  see  her  to-night.  She  hath  need  of  com- 
fort. Perhaps  she  will  not  see  another  day.' 

c  Well,  well,  reverend  sir,'  said  the  peasant : 
c  we  will  do  all  we  can  to  get  you  into  the  vil- 
lage safely.  We  will  let  you  know  when  the 
soldiers  have  gone  to  rest.  Then  will  be  the 
safest  time  for  you.' 

£Do  accordingly,'  replied  the  minister.  «I 
will  approach  the  village  after  night-fall,  and 
wait  in  the  hazel  glen  till  you  or  some  of  your 
friends  come  to  me.  Go.  and  be  mindful  of 
your  appointment.' 


70  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

When  Mr.  Bruce  was  left  alone,  he  ventured 
out  to  the  top  of  a  hill  hard  by,  whence  he 
could  espy  the  grave  of  his  wife,  and  the  smoke 
rising  from  the  village,  where  his  son  had  that 
day  been  put  to  death,  and  where  his  dear 
daughter,  his  only  remaining  earthly  hope,  lay 
on  a  bed  of  distress  :  And,  truly,  it  needed 
something  more  than  the  mere  firmness  of  na- 
tural fortitude  to  sustain  his  spirit,  while  he 
waited  in  anxious  expectation  the  coming  dark- 
ness. 

Mary,  to  whom  we  now  return,  when  she 
lived  at  the  manse  in  peace,  as  we  formerly  re- 
marked, was  cheerful  as  the  lark  of  the  morn- 
ing, and  lovely  as  the  flower  on  which  hath 
never  breathed  aught  but  the  purest  and  gen- 
tlest breezes  from  the  chambers  of  the  south. 
And,  till  her  mother's  death,  she  bore  all  the 
sufferings  to  which  the  family  was  subjected, 
with  little  change  of  spirit ;  and  often  did  she 
cheer  their  wanderings  by  the  sallies  of  her  in- 
nocent mirth.  Ever  after  her  mother's  death, 
however,  although  her  father  watched  over  her 
with  the  eye  of  a  guardian  angel,  and  her 
brother  tended  her  with  the  most  vigilant  affec- 
tion, she  had  lost  much  of  her  cheerfulness,  and 
her  health  had  been  rather  declining.  The 
circumstances  in  which  the  family  had  been 
placed,  had  rendered  her  mother  peculiarly  dear 
to  her ;  and  her  tender  feelings  never  fully  re- 
covered from  the  shock  they  received  by  the 
sudden  and  cruel  death  of  her  mother.  And 
now  the  still  more  untimely  and  cruel  death 
of  her  brother,  together  with  all  the  affecting 
circumstances  with  which  it  was  connected,  had 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  71 

entirely  overcome  her.  After  she  had  been 
carried  into  the  old  woman's  house,  and  had 
recovered  from  the  swoon  into  which  she  had 
fallen  when  she  heard  that  her  brother's  death 
was  sure,  she  exclaimed,  for  some  minutes,  *  My 
brother  !  my  dear  brother  !  what  will  my  fa- 
ther do?'  and  then  relapsed  into  the  swoon. 
During  the  whole  course  of  the  day,  although 
she  had  resorted  to  the  treasures  of  comfort 
that  are  laid  up  for  all  afflicted  Christians,  and 
although  the  peace  which  is  from  above  had 
stilled  the  tumult  of  her  soul,  she  fell  at  inter- 
vals into  fainting  fits  ;  and  as  the  evening  and 
night  approached  they  came  on  oftener,  and 
continued  longer.  She  felt  that  she  was  dying  ; 
and  she  had  only  one  wish,  she  said,  unfulfill- 
ed, that  was,  to  see  her  father.  '  But  he  can- 
not come  here  without  endangering  his  life,'  she 
would  say ;  *  and  why  should  I  wish  him.  I 
shall  soon  see  him  in  heaven.  He  will  not  take 
care  of  himself  when  we  are  gone,  and  the  per- 
secutors will  soon  get  him  :  but  my  father  ia 
prepared  to  die.' 

At  the  approach  of  night,  Mr.  Bruce,  anxious 
to  see  his  daughter,  drew  near  the  village.  He 
staid  in  the  hazel  glen,  as  agreed  on,  till  about 
midnight,  when  the  peasant,  faithful  to  his  ap- 
pointment, met  him.  As  it  happened,  most  of 
the  soldiers,  who  were  quartered  in  the  village 
and  its  neighbourhood,  had  been  sent  the  pre- 
ceding day  on  a  distant  excursion,  and  had  not 
yet  returned ;  and  the  few  who  remained,  the 
peasant  assured  Mr.  Bruce,  had  all  retired  to 
rest. 

Mr.  Bruce,  in  coming  to  the  house  where  ma 


72  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

daughter  lay,  passed  the  place  where  his  son 
was  buried,  and  the  church  which  he  had  so 
often  entered  with  holy  joy  ;  and  he  saw  the 
manse  where  he  had  lived  so  happily  with  his 
family.  But  these  times  were  past.  His  Mas- 
ter had  called  him  to  severer  service.  And  the 
worthy  pastor,  without  giving  way  to  the  sad 
reflections  which  every  object  about  him  tended 
to  suggest,  hurried  on  to  the  hut  where  his 
daughter  lay. 

When  he  entered  the  house,  he  beheld  Mary 
stretched  on  a  humble  bed,  to  all  appearance 
lifeless.  CI  am  too  late,'  he  said  to  the  old 
woman,  and  some  of  the  neighbours,  who  stood 
by.  '  My  daughter  is  gone.5  '  We  hope  not, 
sir,3  replied  the  old  woman.  (  She  has  fallen 
into  a  swoon  :  but  she  will  recover  yet.' 

Mr.  Bruce  examined  his  daughter  narrowly ; 
and  he  could  discover  that  life  had  not  entirely 
left  its  seat.  Sometimes,  however,  he  could 
discern  nothing  but  the  paleness  and  stillness 
of  death  about  his  dear  child  :  sometimes  a 
slight  quiver  moved  her  lips  and  her  eye  half- 
opened  ;  and  he  leaned  over  her  and  wept,  pray- 
ing that  he  might  yet  hear  his  daughter's  voice 
ere  she  departed. 

After  continuing  nearly  half  an  hour  in  this 
state,  she  gave  a  deep  sigh,  and  looked  up  in  her 
father's  face.  '  Are  you  there  father  ?'  she 
said.  c  I  am  now  ready  to  die.  They  will  tell 
you,'  continued  she,  looking  to  those  who  stood 
by  ;  e  they  will  tell  you  what  my  brother  said  to 
me  when  I  saw  him  last.  Haste  you,  dear  fa- 
ther, from  this  place.  They  will  torture  you, 
if  they  get  you.  Is  it  not  night  ?  Leave  me 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  73 

before  the  day  come.  Dear  father,  I  go  to  my 
Redeemer  :  he  is  all  my  salvation,  and  all  my 
desire.' 

*  Dear  daughter,'  he  said,  grasping  her  hand, 
and  half  embracing  her  ;  '  dear  daughter,  what 
can  I  wish  more  ?  The  Lord  our  God  take 
you  to  hims-elf.' 

'Farewell,  father,'  Mary  said.  'We  shall 
soon  meet  again.' 

O,  how  lovely  in  that  moment  did  she  seem 
in  her  father's  sight  !  Her  eye,  always  beauti- 
ful, shed,  at  its  setting,  the  purity  of  heaven ; 
and  no  earthly  commotion  stirred  the  compo- 
sure of  her  cheek.  For  a  moment  she  looked 
on  her  father,  not  like  the  solitary  star,  which 
looks  by  the  skirts  of  the  gathering  clouds  which 
are  soon  to  wrap  it  in  darkness,  but  like  the  last 
star  of  the  morning,  about  to  fade  away  into 
the  light  of  day.  And  now  her  eye  closed  :  she 
grasped  her  father's  hand  convulsively  :  it  loos- 
ened its  hold  :  the  last  quiver  forsook  her  lips  ; 
and  her  gentle  soul  fled  far  away  beyond  the 
sufferings  of  time. 

1  It  is  done,'  said  Mr.  Bruce,  still  gazing  on 
his  daughter  :  *  it  is  done  ;  persecution  hath  ac- 
complished its  worst  against  me.  But  why 
should  I  repine  ?  My  dear  family  hath  now 
escaped  from  the  evib  to  come.  This  world 
was  not  their  home.  It  was  the  country  of 
their  enemies  ;  and  blessed  be  the  name  of  God, 
that  he  hath  so  early  taken  them  away  from 
suffering,  to  that  place  which  his  everlasting 
iove  hath  prepared  for  them.  I  have  now  less 
to  care  for  in  this  vale  of  tears.  Let  me  now, 
Holy  Father,'  said  he,  lifting  up  his  hands  to 


74  THE  PERSECUTED  FA  MILY. 

heaven  ;  £  let  me  henceforth  have  nought  but 
thy  glory  before  me.  In  thy  name  and  strength 
let  me  fight  out  the  Christian  warfare. — Make 
me  more  and  more  the  comforter  and  helper  of 
thy  scattered  people  ;  and  if  thou  shouldst  de- 
liver me  up  to  my  enemies,  give  me  to  die  with- 
out a  murmur  in  the  cause  of  my  country's 
liberty.' 

After  uttering  these  words,  Mr.  Bruce  desir 
ed  that  the  corpse  of  his  daughter  should  be  in- 
terred as  privately  as  possible  ;  and  taking  leave 
of  the  sorrowful  few  who  had  gathered  around 
him,  immediately  left  the  village,  and  returned 
toward  the  place  of  his  concealment. 

The  objects  of  nature  had  early  made  a  deep 
impression  on  the  mind  of  Mr.  Bruce  ;  and  his 
manner  of  life,  spent  for  the  last  six  years 
amidst  its  wildest  scenery,  had  still  deepened 
this  impression.  Night,  as  it  was  the  only  time 
in  which  he  could  venture  safely  abroad,  had 
especially  engaged  his  contemplation  ;  and  often, 
in  his  nocturnal  discourses,  did  he  turn  the  at- 
tention of  his  audience  to  the  grandeur  of  that 
magnificent  temple  in  which  they  met  to  wor- 
ship God. 

Notwithstanding  the  losses  he  had  sustained 
that  day,  Mr.  Bruce,  resigned  to  the  will  of 
God,  and  having  the  Christian's  peace  in  his 
bosom,  as  he  walked  towards  the  cave,  could 
ook  with  his  usual  relish  to  the  magnificence 
of  the  starred  canopy,  and  the  shadowy  gran- 
deur of  nature  around  him.  And  as  he  ascend- 
ed, with  a  peasant  who  accompanied  him,  an 
eminence  near  his  cave,  he  made  the  following 
reflections, — standing  lonely  on  the  hill — with 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  75 

no  wife — no  child  remaining — but  standing  firm 
and  dignified,  like  the  oak  of  the  mountains  after 
its  leaves  have  been  torn  away  by  the  violence 
of  the  tempest. 

•Turn  your  eye  to  those  stars,'  said  he  to 
the  peasant,  *  that  look  forth  like  angels*  eyes 
from  heaven.  How  pure  and  tranquil  they 
seem  !  None  of  the  storms  which  agitate  this 
bwer  world  disturb  them.  They  shone  on  the 
beings  that  trod  this  waste  a  thousand  years 
ago  ;  and  still  they  shine  on  us.  Do  not  their 
serenity  and  duration  seem  to  write  a  satire  on 
the  tumult  and  brevity  of  the  life  of  man  ? 
How  much  of  his  folly  have  they  seen  :  How 
little  of  his  wisdom  !  How  much  of  his  cruelty 
to  his  fellow  creatures  :  How  little  of  his  brotH- 
erly  affection  !  How  many  have  they  seen 
going  forth,  under  their  holy  light,  with  the 
dagger  of  vengeance,  to  carry  into  execution  the 
dark  plots  of  wickedness  :  How  few  have  they 
noticed  crossing  the  valleys  of  earth  on  errands 
of  mercy  !  How  many  deluded  human  beings 
have  they  observed  bowing  down  to  stocks 
and  stones  :  How  few  bending  the  knee  sin- 
cerely to  the  living  and  true  God  !  Yes,  they 
have  seen  hundreds  of  generations  bustle  away 
the  little  hour  of  their  vanity — and  they  have 
seen  their  everlasting  destiny  sealed  :  And  yet 
man  is  still  as  foolish  as  if  none  had  ever  proved 
to  him  that  he  must  die.  He  grasps  at  the 
shadow  of  earth's  happiness,  more  fleeting  than 
that  which  the  passing  cloud  casts  yonder  on  the 
heath.  And  so  eagerjy  does  he  run  after  the 
spectre,  that  neither  the  tears  nor  the  execrations 
of  thousands  dying  under  his  feet,  nor  the  sword 


76  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

of  eternal  wrath  which  gleams  over  his  head, 
can  stop  him  in  his  frenzied  pursuit.  Sure 
there  is  something  miserably  wrong  in  the  hu- 
man heart.  Surely  the  true  eyes  of  the  human 
understanding  have  been  indeed  put  out.  The 
shadow  that  falls  from  yonder  mountain,  and 
hides  the  vale  in  gloom,  is  itself  brightness, 
compared  with  that  cloud  that  broods  on  the 
human  mind,  and  benights  all  its  faculties. 
So  dreadfully  dim  is  mortal  vision,  that  it  can- 
not discern  the  glory  of  God  himself,  even  when 
he  comes  to  redeem,  to  forgive,  and  to  save. 
O,  when  shall  that  star  arise,  which  led  the 
wise  men  of  old  to  the  manger  of  Bethlehem, 
and  guide  the  way  of  every  man  to  the  feet  of 
Jesus  !  who,  although  he  created  the  heavens, 
and  heard  the  harps  of  angels  sing  his  glory  di- 
virie,  died,  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation  :* 
Surely  the  time  will  come,  for  the  Lord  hath 
sworn  it,  yea,  he  hath  sworn  it  by  himself,  when 
the  earth  shall  return  to  its  allegiance,  and  be 
cured  of  its  folly.' 

Here  the  holy  man  looked  to  his  companion, 
whom  he  had  forgotten  in  his  contemplations  ; 
and  casting  his  eye  of  faith  far  into  days  yet  to 
come,  and  filled  with  the  blessedness  which  the 
promises  of  God  have  pledged  to  the  world, 
exclaimed,  c  Yes,  my  friend,  we  have  the  God 
that  made  all  these  worlds  to  support  us.  We 
have  his  promise,  that  truth  shall  ultimately 
prevail.  Let  us  boldly  do  our  duty,  that  we 
may  be  partakers  of  that  joy  unspeakable,  which 
shall  fill  the  hearts  of  the  just,  when  all  shall  be 
complete  in  Christ,  and  when  these  stars  shall 
away,  at  his  second  coming.5 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  77 

When  Mr.  Bruce  had  withdrawn  his  mind 
from  these  contemplations,  he  parted  from  the 
peasant,  and  returned  to  the  cave,  by  wife  or 
child  no  longer  made  cheerful. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

AFTER  the  loss  of  his  family,  Mr.  Bruce  con- 
tinued to  instruct  and  comfort  his  scattered 
flock  with  more  assiduity  and  zeal  than  ever. 
The  sufferings  he  had  endured  had  given  a  bold- 
er and  firmer  tone  to  his  character.  The  more 
he  saw  the  devastations  of  cruelty  and  tyranny 
spreading  around  him,  the  warmer  his  heart 
glowed  with  the  love  of  liberty,  and  the  bles- 
sings which  accompany  it.  The  lovely  flowers, 
which,  that  he  might  guard  and  cherish  them, 
had  hitherto  rendered  him  more  careful  of  him- 
self, were  now  gathered  into  a  place  of  safety. 
With  nought  to  bind  him  to  earth,  but  an 
ardent  desire  to  instruct  and  counsel  the  pres- 
byterians,  so  as  they  might  best  attain  the  glo- 
rious purposes  they  had  in  view,  he  now  ven- 
tured forth  boldly,  and  seized  with  eagerness 
every  opportunity  of  strengthening  and  conso- 
ling them.  Thus  employed,  for  a  considerable 
time,  he  wandered  from  place  to  place,  always 
visiting,  as  often  as  he  durst,  the  people  of  his 
former  charge. 

But,  in  proportion  as  Mr.  Bruce  became 
more  conspicuous  among  the  persecuted  party, 
the  malignity  of  his  enemies,  and  their  exertions 


78  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

to  cut  him  off,  increased.  And  what  they  had 
so  long  and  so  eagerly  sought  was  now  drawing 
near. 

One  Sabbath  evening,  in  the  depth  of  win- 
ter, he  met,  according  to  a  previous  appoint- 
ment, a  few  of  his  own  flock,  in  a  remote  house, 
not  very  far  from  the  place  where  he  had  so 
often  concealed  himself.  There  he  preached  a 
sermon  ;  and,  as  if  he  had  felt  some  presenti- 
ment that  this  sermon  would  be  his  last,  he  ex- 
horted his  hearers,  towards  the  close  of  his 
discourse,  with  extraordinary  warmth  and  en- 
ergy, to  be  faithful  to  the  death,  to  live  peace- 
ably, to  bear  all  with  patience ;  assuring  them 
that  God  would  most  certainly  plead  his  own 
cause,  and  deliver  his  servants  from  oppression. 
He  represented  how  much  Christ  had  suffered 
for  them,  and  with  what  meekness  and  resigna- 
tion ; — what  blessings  they  would  secure  to 
posterity,  and  what  rewards  they  would  them- 
selves receive,  by  bearing  nobly  up  against  the 
storm  that  beat  on  them  so  severely.  On  leav- 
ing the  little  audience,  whose  hearts  had  burned, 
whose  eyes  had  wept,  whose  faith  had  increas- 
ed, and  whose  purpose  to  bear  all,  for  the  cause 
in  which  they  had  engaged,  had  been  more  firm- 
ly established,  while  listening  to  his  discourse, 
he  said  to  them,  in  a  cheerful  manner, — l  My 
friends,  when  we  part  in  these  times,  we  have 
very  little  certainty  of  meeting  again.  But 
our  best  friend,  Jesus  Christ,  goes  with  us  all. 
He  is  company  enough.  And  should^  any  thing 
happen  to  any  of  us,  when  we  have  no  one  to 
give  us  assistance,  he  will  take  care  of  us.' 

When  he  had  thus  said,  he  left  the  house, 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  79 

fearing  that  he  had  been  already  too  long  there, 
as  it  was  not  improbable  that  some  notice  of 
the  meeting  might  have  reached  the  persecutors. 
Both  because  it  was  the  safest  place,  and  be- 
cause he  meant  to  spend  the  remaining  part  of 
the  Sabbath  night  in  private  prayer  and  sup- 
plication to  God  in  behalf  of  the  suffering  peo- 
ple, he  withdrew,  unaccompanied  to  the  cave, 
never  suspecting  that  any  of  his  enemies  observ- 
ed him.  But  there  had  been  a  Judas  among 
those  who  embraced  him  at  parting. 

One  of  those  spies,  whom  we  have  had  oc- 
casion to  mention  before,  eager  to  gain  the 
reward  offered  to  any  one  who  should  bring 
'"formation  which  might  lead  to  the  appre- 
hension of  Mr.  Bruce,  took  the  following  meth- 
od to  compass  his  design. 

With  the  consent  and  privacy  of  Macd  uff,  ha 
entirely  forsook  his  house,  lived  among  the 
peasants,  and,  as  he  was  one  who  had  formerly 
sworn  the  covenant,  he  manifested  the  deepest 
contrition  for  the  aid  he  had  given  to  those  who 
sought  the  ruin  of  the  covenanters.  He  gave 
proof  of  the  greatest  zeal  in  everything  which 
had  for  its  end  their  safety  ;  revealed  to  them 
many  schemes  which  were  contrived  for  their 
destruction  ;  and  showed  always  the  most  sen- 
sible alarm  lest  he  should  fall  into  the  hands  of 
those  he  had  last  deserted.  By  these  artifices,  he 
gained  the  confidence  of  those  with  whom  he 
now  associated  ;  and  had  continued  with  them 
more  than  a  month,  supporting  always  the 
same  character,  before  Mr.  Bruce  happened  to 
visit  his  people.  The  night  of  which  we  have 
spoken  was  the  first  time  he  had  ever  got  into 
6 


80  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

his  presence.  Mr.  Bruce  noticed  him  :  but, 
both  from  the  manner  in  which  he  behaved 
during  the  meeting,  and  from  the  account  he 
had  received  of  him,  he  entertained  no  suspicion 
of  his  real  designs.  This  man,  if  he  deserve  the 
name,  dogged  Mr.  Bruce,  through  the  darkness 
of  night,  to  the  cave ;  and,  as  soon  as  he  saw 
him  enter,  sped  to  the  village,  to  give  infor- 
mation. 

It  was  midnight  when  he  reached  the  cu- 
rate's house.  And  although  this  monster  would 
not  have  risen  from  his  bed  at  that  hour  to  save 
a  soul  from  death,  he  instantly  got  up,  and, 
with  the  malignant  satisfaction  of  an  evil  spirit, 
when  it  hath  compassed  some  infernal  aim, 
hastened  to  inform  the  few  soldiers  who  were 
in  the  village.  No  time  was  lost.  It  was  at 
first  resolved  to  bring  Mr.  Bruce  to  the  village, 
and  send  him  thence,  to  be  executed  in  Edin- 
burgh. But,  as  the  appearance  of  a  Dutch  fleet 
on  the  north  coast  of  Scotland  had,  at  that  time, 
occasioned  the  withdrawing  of  most  of  the 
troops  from  the  West,  they  were  afraid  that 
the  handful  they  could  collect,  would  not  be 
sufficient  to  repel  the  peasants,  whose  ardent 
attachment  to  Mr.  Bruce,  they  had  every  rea- 
son to  suspect,  would  excite  them  to  attempt  a 
rescue.  Urged  by  this  reason,  and  determined, 
at  any  rate,  to  make  sure  of  Mr.  Bruce's  death, 
Macduff  said  to  the  commanding-officer,  ( Go, 
and  shoot  the  rebel  wherever  you  find  him. 
The  king  will  reward  you  for  it.3 

The  soldiers,  about  ten  in  number,  set  out 
from  the  village,  conducted  by  the  spy,  and  led 
by  an  officer  well  fitted  to  execute  a  bloody  com- 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  81 

mand.  As  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow, 
and  the  way  extremely  rugged,  they  could  make 
no  use  of  their  horses,  and  were  therefore  oblig- 
ed to  leave  them  behind.  But,  although  the 
storm  of  winter  howled  around  their  heads,  and 
the  darkness  of  night  brooded  on  the  rough  and 
way  less  moors,  keeping  by  the  direction  of  the 
spy,  not  far  from  the  stream  up  which  the  cave 
lay,  they  urged  on,  as  if  they  had  been  going 
on  a  message  of  extraordinary  mercy. 

About  three  in  the  morning,  they  reached 
the  vicinity  of  the  cave.  Two  or  three  soldiers 
were  posted  on  a  crag  above  it,  one  or  two  en 
the  opposite  side  of  the  stream,  to  prevent  the 
possibility  of  Mr.  Bruce  escaping,  while  the  oth- 
ers scrambled  up  the  dilficult  ascent  which  led 
to  the  mouth  of  the  cave.  The  spirit  of  the 
blast  of  night  moaned  dolefully  among  the  for- 
lorn cliffs  :  the  Ayr,  half  fettered  in  ice,  grum- 
bled at  their  feet ;  and  the  leafless  trees,  by  which 
they  supported  themselves  as  they  ascended  the 
rock,  waving  to  the  wind,  seemed  to  utter  cur- 
ses on  the  ruffians'  heads.  Hardened  as  they 
were  in  ruthless  deeds,  their  guilty  hearts  inter- 
preted every  sound  they  heard  as  an  indication 
of  coming  wrath.  They  trembled  like  the  leaf 
which  the  wind  passeth  over  :  and  as  they  stood 
still  involuntary  before  the  abode  of  the  holy 
man,  they  heard  issuing  from  the  mouth  of  the 
cave  the  following  words. — £Yea,  for  Zion's 
sake,  will  I  not  hold  my  peace,  Holy  Father,  and 
for  Jerusalem's  sake/ 1  will  not  rest,  until  the 
day  of  her  mercy  come.  Hast  thou  forsaken 
Zion,  O  Lord  ?  hast  thou  forgotten  the  people 
of  thy  love  ?  Our  temples  are  desolate  :  the 


82  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILF. 

courts  of  thy  holiness  are  defiled  :thy  children 
are  scattered  on  the  mountains  :  they  weep  and 
cry  in  the  desert.  The  harp  of  their  sorrow 
hangs  on  the  willow,  and  mourns  to  the  blast 
of  the  wilderness :  the  wastes  of  nature  are 
watered  with  their  tears  :  their  blood  is  poured 
forth,  and  there  is  none  to  pity  them!  Surely 
we  are  a  sinful  nation  ;  a  people  laden  with  in- 
iquity. We  have  forsaken  thee :  we  have  pro- 
voked the  Holy  One  of  Israel  to  anger.  But  O, 
Merciful  and  Holy  One !  God  of  salvation !  look 
down  from  heaven,  and  behold  from  the  habi- 
tation of  thy  holiness  ;  and  let  the  bow  of  thy 
mercy  be  seen  in  the  wilderness.  Thou  wilt 
not  forsake  us.  1  know  thy  church  is  graven 
on  the  palms  of  thy  hands  :  her  walls  are  con- 
tinually before  thee ;  and  the  point  of  every 
weapon  that  is  lifted  against  her  wilt  thou  at 
length  turn  into  the  soul  of  him  that  lifted  it. 
Haste,  0  God  and  Father  to  deliver  us  !  Turn 
the  hand  of  oppression  from  our  country,  that 
thy  people  may  dwell  in  freedom  and  peace. 
And  while  thou  seest  meet  that  they  should 
wander  on  the  mountains,  and  suffer  in  the 
cause  of  their  country,  O  give  them  patience, 
and  fortitude,  and  strength.  Let  them  take 
comfort  that  in  all  their  afflictions  the  Captain 
of  their  salvation  is  afflicted,  and  that  the  Angel 
of  thy  presence  shall  save  them.  Stretch  over 
them'  the  shield  of  thine  omnipotence  :  guide 
the  path  of  their  trials  by  thine  all-comprehend- 
ing wisdom  :  fill  their  hearts  with  thine  inex- 
haustible love  :  save  them,  O  Lord  !  Save  and 
support  them  in  death  !  And  O,  Father  !  when 
the  day  of  thy  vengeance  arriveth,  and  the  year 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  83 

of  restitution  to  the  spoilers  of  our  land  doth 
come,  have  mercy  on  those  who  have  had  no 
mercy  on  us.  Soften  the  hardness  of  their 
hearts  :  open  the  blindness  of  their  eyes.  O, 
cast  them  not  away  from  thy  presence  forever  ! 
For  who  among  them  shall  dwell  with  the  de- 
vouring fire  ?  who  among  them  shall  dwell  with 
everlasting  burnings  ? 5 

Thus  did  the  holy  man,  in  the  darkness  of 
night,  in  the  cave  of  the  cold  rock,  plead  with  his 
God  for  our  church  and  our  country. 

The  fell  assassins  still  stood  before  the  cave, 
trembling  at  the  words  they  had  heard,  and  the 
holy  confidence  with  which  they  were  uttered. 
And  the  most  fearless  and  stout-hearted  among 
them  wished  the  task  of  murdering  this  servant 
of  Jesus  had  fallen  to  other  hands.  After  a 
short  pause,  however,  the  officer,  ashamed  to 
have  felt  something  like  humanity  moving  with- 
in him,  which  he  considered  as  cowardice,  sud- 
denly entered  the  cave,  ordering  two  of  his  men 
to  follow. 

Mr.  Bruce,  who  was  kneeling  when  he  enter- 
ed, arose.  A  few  embers,  that  burned  on  the 
floor  of  the  place,  helped  to  show  his  appear- 
ance. His  forehead  was  bald,  and  his  few  re- 
maining locks  were  gray.  His  figure,  although 
nothing  improved  by  his  half-worn  and  little- 
befitting  clothes,  was  elegant;  and  the  serene 
and  peaceful  dignity  of  his  countenance,  which 
changed  not  at  the  entrance  of  the  soldiers,  was 
such  as  might  impress  the  beholder  with  respect 
and  awe. 

'  You  are  come,5  said  he  mildly,  addressing 
the  officer,  f  you  are  come  to  apprehend  me. 


84  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

1  am  prepared  to  go  with  you.  You,  perhaps, 
have  a  better  lodging  tor  me  than  this ;  although, 
as  it  is,  I  have  been  often  glad  to  get  to  it.5 

'  My  orders  are,'  said  the  officer,  (  to  offer 
you  the  test ;  and  if  you  refuse  it,  to  put  you  to 
death  on  the  spot.' 

c  Nay,  then,'  said  Mr.  Bruce,  smiling,  cis 
heaven  so  near  ?  You  are  going  to  send  me  to 
better  lodgings  indeed.' 

c  But  will  you  take  the  test.'  said  the  officer, 
{ and  save  us  the  expense  of"  a  shot  ?' 

'  God  be  my  witness,'  said  Mr.  Bruce,  the  true 
fortitude  of  the  Christian  strongly  marking  his 
countenance  as  he  spoke  ;  '  God  be  my  witness, 
I  will  never  swear  away  my  allegiance  from  the 
King  of  kings,  who  is  my  Saviour  and  Master. 
I  will  not  submit  to  that  which  my  conscience 
condemns.  I  will  not  connive  at  the  enslaving 
of  my  country.' 

6  Have  done,'  said  the  officer  ;  '  have  done.' 

*  I  have  done,'  replied  Mr.  Bruce,  with  un- 
faultering  voice.  And,  lifting  up  his  hands,  he 
prayed,  and  said,  '  Lord  Jesus,  forgive  my  ene- 
mies. Lord  Jesus,  be  with  the  poor  people  I 
leave  in  this  wilderness.  Father,  Son,  and  Holy 
Ghost,  receive  my  spirit  !' 

When  he  had  thus  spoken,  the  officer  com- 
manded his  men  to  discharge  their  carabines  on 
Mr.  Bruce.  The  reverend  minister  glanced  a 
look  upon  them,  and  they  refused  to  obey. 
( Faint-hearted  slaves,'  exclaimed  the  enraged 
officer  ;  and,  snatching  a  carabine  from  the  hand 
of  one  of  the  soldiers,  discharged  its  contents 
into  the  breast  of  Mr.  Bruce.  The  martyred 
saint  instantly  fell  down,  and  expired,  while  the 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  85 

report  of  the  fatal  shot  yet  echoed  among  the 
wild  cliffs  around.  Farewell,  good  and  faithful 
servant  !  Thou  hast  entered  into  the  joy  of 
thy  Lord  ' 

Still,  Religion,  thou  art  happiness  !  The 
joys  which  thou  pourest  into  the  heart  he  not 
within  the  reach  of  any  weapon  that  the  hand 
ol  man  can  form.  The  calm  which  thou  set- 
tlest  on  the  soul,  the  wing  of  no  earthly  blast 
can  disturb.  The  light  by  which  thy  children 
walk  is  the  candle  of  the  Lord,  which  can  never 
be  quenched.  Thou  plantest  a  torch  ibr  them 
in  the  gloom  of  death's  darkness  ;  and  support- 
est  their  goings  on  the  rod  and  the  staff  of  the 
Almighty.  Thou  conductest  their  spirits  to  the 
feast  of  immortality,  and  layest  their  bodies 
down  to  sleep  in  peace  till  the  morning  of  the 
resurrection.  Wo  unto  him  that  seeketh  his 
happiness  apart  from  thee  !  He  shall  be  mis- 
erably disappointed. 


86  THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY 


HEADER,  I  have  now  finished  this  short  ac- 
count of  the  PERSECUTED  FAMILY.  In  it  I 
have  had  occasion  to  introduce  thee  to  somt  of 
the  sufferings  that  were  endured,  and  some  of 
the  cruelties  that  were  exercised,  by  our  ances 
tors  of  the  seventeenth  century, — the  former, 
for  the  sake  of  religion,  and  all  the  dearest  rights 
of  men ;  the  latter,  to  extirpate  liberty,  and 
leave  to  posterity  the  chains  of  servitude.  The 
sufferings  of  the  family,  to  which  I  confined 
myself,  did  not  lead  me  to  bring  into  view  the 
most  exalted  Christian  heroism  which  was  in 
these  times  manifested  ;  and,  unwilling  to  shock 
the  tender  feelings  of  the  heart,  I  have  studious- 
ly avoided  some  of  those  monstrous  cruelties 
which  were  then  exercised,  and  which,  without 
going  out  of  my  way  I  might  have  introduced. 
Thou  hast  seen  enough,  however,  kind  reader, 
of  the  latter,  to  abhor  it ;  and  of  the  former,  to 
admire  it.  I  know  thou  hast  nraised  their  pa- 
tience, and  their  resignation,  and  their  hope, 
and  their  faith,  and  their  fortitude  in  death. 
Thou  hast  marked  their  stanch  adherence  to 
the  dictates  of  conscience,  the  ardor  of  their 
devotion,  and  their  love  of  liberty  and  their 
country.  And,  while  thou  sittest  in  peace,  con- 
scious that  thou  mayst  worship  thy  God  as 
thou  thinkest  the  Bible  orders  thee,  thou  per- 
haps givest  them,  who  suffered  so  much  to  se- 
cure thee  this  liberty,  the  sacred  applause  due 


THE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY*.  87 

to  their  exertions.  It  is  right  that  it  shoulc 
be  so. 

But  I  wish  thee  not  to  stop  here.  I  wish 
thee  to  trust  in  and  to  adore  the  grace  of  God, 
which  supported  them,  and  gave  them  the  vic- 
tory ; — to  admire  the  wonderful  resources  of 
that  religion  which  they  professed, — how  suf- 
ficient they  are  to  instruct  and  advise  the  Chris- 
tian, in  the  devious  and  difficult  paths, — to  keep 
his  heart  warm  in  the  coldest  winter  of  adver- 
sity,— to  invigorate  him,  as  he  climbs  the  steepest 
ascents  of  virtue, — and  to  uphold  and  sus- 
tain his  soul  in  the  face  of  the  most  violent  of 
deaths. 

Nor  hath  the  Christian  of  the  present  day 
need  only  to  admire  the  marvellous  sources  frorr 
which  his  suffering  ancestors  drew. — He  hath 
not  less  need  than  they  to  draw  for  himself.  His 
enemies  are  more  concealed,  more  mannerly, 
more  deceitful,  and,  therefore,  less  apt  to  excite 
his  suspicion,  and  put  him  on  his  guard.  Per- 
secution labors  to  force  the  Christian  out  of  his 
way,  whether  he  will  or  not ;  and,  therefore,  the 
spirit  of  liberty  within  him  encourages  him  to 
make  a  bold  lesistance.  In  the  days  of  peace 
and  prosperity,  he  is  assailed  by  pleasures, 
which,  endeavouring  to  draw  him  out  of  his 
path,  by  the  sweetness  of  their  song,  and  the 
fairness  of  their  promises,  excite  little  suspicion 
of  their  design,  and  are,  therefore,  often  little 
resisted. 

If  the  persecuted  Christian  needs  moie  of 
comfort,  of  steadfastness  in  peril,  of  patience,  re- 
Rignation,  and  fortitude, — he  who  lives  in  peace 


88  T1IE  PERSECUTED  FAMILY. 

icquires  more  of  watchfulness,  of  selfoiemal, 
and  of  resistance  to  temptation.  If  our  wants 
are,  therefore,  as  numerous,  so  should  our 
applications  be  to  that  inexhaustible  source, 
which  supplied  all  theirs,  and  which  will  sup- 
ply all  ours,  if  we  approach  it  with  our  whole 
heart 


THE   EXtD. 


1 

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